


The Truth

by GallavichGeek13



Series: A New Beginning [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bipolar Ian Gallagher, Bottom Ian Gallagher, Bottom Mickey Milkovich, Fluff, Homophobic Language, Husbands, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Married Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Mickey feels guilty, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Reminiscing, Season 11 au, Smut, Top Ian Gallagher, Top Mickey Milkovich, Torture, Violence, mickey talks about his feelings, rape from an intimate object, thoughts of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:07:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 31,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27428401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GallavichGeek13/pseuds/GallavichGeek13
Summary: 4 weeks, 30 days, 2,921 Hours. That's all it took for Ian and Mickeys life to change. For the secrets to come out, for the truth to be shared and for the past to be confronted.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: A New Beginning [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2046839
Comments: 95
Kudos: 233





	1. Family

**Author's Note:**

> So a heads up, this fic will get heavier as the chapters go along. I wanted to write something that has Mickey confront his past, his fears and the only way to do that is to talk about it. I'll put warnings at the start of each chapter, so be prepared.

Mickeys eyes open wide as if electricity is coursing through his body, shocking him awake. Ian snuggles closer in behind him, the sudden jolt from Mickeys briefly disturbing him but not enough to wake. He can’t relax or drift off back to sleep in the arms of his husband because his brain has other things in mind. Today is the day, it has to be. It’s time. He doesn’t want to go, but obviously a part of him says he needs to, so he can close that chapter of his life and start fresh with Ian. Mickey turns to his bedside table, picking up his phone to check how early it is. 6am flashes at him. The gates open around 7.30am. He lays there for another forty five minutes so Ian can keep sleeping, fighting with his inner thoughts on whether or not he really has to go or if it’s just some stupid form of guilt seeping in, telling him that deep down, he is still family in some fucked up sense of the word.

Whatever his body is trying to tell him, his head and his heart knows the truth. Ian is his family, the Gallaghers are family, even before they he and Ian were married, they cared more about Mickey than all the Milkovich's combined, well, besides Mandy, but even she has her moments.

At 7am Ian opens his eyes, the sun shinning on his face from the small gap between the curtains.

His body now taking in what is happening around him, his husband already fully dressed for the day which is the first thing to set Ian off.

“What’s going on?”

“I have to go visit him.” Mickey wasn't going to beat around the bush, he wanted to just come out and say it, confirming to himself that he was actually going to go.

“You want me to come with you?” Mickey loves that Ian didn’t ask him why he was going, he just accepted that this is what Mickey needed to do.

“No, no, it’s okay. This is just something I have to do on my own.” Ian nods

It’s one of the things he loves about his husband, he always understands him, never questions him when he is in this state of mind. But still, a part of Mickey feels guilty for telling his husband that he would rather go alone.

It suddenly hits Mickey, now at the age of twenty six, that for almost half his life, Ian has been by his side. He knows what Terry has put him through growing up, what he did to him, did to them, and even now, knowing Terry can’t touch either of them, he is still wanting to protect Ian, shield him away from Terry, which is why he wanted to go by himself.

“Call me if you need me to come by.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ian crawls out of bed, only needing to take one step in their small room to reach Mickey.

“Hey” Ian puts his hand on Mickeys chin, he tilts it up so that Mickey is looking into his eyes.

“I mean it Mick. I’ll drop everything and come straight to you, if that's what you want, what you need, I’ll be there.”

Mickey doesn’t respond, he doesn’t have to, Ian just knows. He looks down, no longer able to hold Ians gaze and gives him a small nod to show that he heard him, that he understands.

Ian kisses his forehead. Now that he is up he decides he might as well get dressed, prepare for the day, even though the morning didn’t turn out quit like he was hoping. He was expecting longer in bed with far less clothing on.

Mickey parks Debbie’s car on the side of the curb, he gets out and starts walking. It’s not cold, shoving his hands in his pockets, it's more of a way to occupy them, otherwise he'd find himself fidgeting with his fingers. Realising that he doesn’t have any recollection of driving here, it’s like his body was on autopilot while his mind analysed his thoughts and emotions. Did he speed, did he run a red light? Gone, from the moment he left the house and arrive here, his memory is wiped clean.

He knows where to go, he has been here more times than he would have liked at his age. When he called this morning to check what area Terry was in, he didn’t even have to ask for directions. Walking on the footpath adjacent to where he parked, Mickey follows the path as it leads him to his destination. Internally arguing with himself as to why he was actually here, Mickey didn’t even have a chance to decide that this was in fact a bad idea, having the opportunity to turn back to the car, get in and drive straight back home to Ian.

He stopped, it was too late, there he was.

_Terrance Milkovich_

_1969 - 2020_

That was it. That’s all it said. No beloved Son and husband. No quote to remember him by or a in memory of, just his name and dates. Honestly it was more than Mickey feels the bastard deserves, if it was up to him, he would have dumped him in an unmarked grave but that would have left more questions than he was ready to admit.

“Fuck you, you piece of shit. Even in death you have to ruin the lives around you.”

*****

**4 weeks earlier**

“You heard from Mandy yet?”

Ian is running around the house making sure everything is neat and in place for when Mandy arrives, excited to finally see her after all this time.

“Yeah, she texted. Should be here in 30 minutes.” Mickey is coming down the stairs still looking at his phone. He looks up and sees Ian wiping the table down, again.

“Ian relax. It’s not like she hasn’t been here before. Honestly this is the best this place as ever looked, I don’t know why you’re stressin’ out?”

For a brief second Mickey considers the fact that Ian might be on the verge of a manic episode but he forgets that thought quickly when Ian answers.

“I don’t know, maybe because she is my best friend and I married her brother without either of us even telling her or inviting her and now she is about to visit us and will probably rip my dick off as punishment.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Is it too late to cancel?”

Ian punches Mickey in the arm, Mickey laughs, enjoying how nervous Ian is acting.

As if the sound of her name summoned her, the Gallagher front door swings open, presenting Mandy as if this was her own home . Her hair is still blonde and her make up looks more natural than either of them have ever seen her wear it before. She is in a pair of wash out jeans with ankle boots on and a sweater which looks more comfy than it does warm, based off the bare shoulder that is on display.

“Well are either of you fuck heads going to help me with my bags or do I have to do everything myself like always.”

The smiles that reach both Ian and Mickeys face is enough to light up the whole kitchen if the power suddenly went out. Ian rushes over first and engulfs Mandy in a hug that sweeps her off her feet, spinning her around the lounge room, both giggling like a bunch of teenagers. She lets out a squeal of joy as he puts her down. Mandy looks at Ian, smiling with joy, but the change on her face happens quicker that a storm that rolls in during a winter in Chicago.Mandy throws a right hook punch into Ians stomach, hard enough to wind him but not nock him to the ground.

“That’s for not tellin’ me you were marrying my brother.”

Mickey chuckles as he takes the few steps towards his sister, bringing her into a warm embrace. He hasn’t seen Mandy since he went to jail after the whole Sammi situation. It feels good to be around her again, hugging each other tight, its like no time has passed at all and yet too much time that they can never get back. The moment between them is broken as she brings her right knee up and aims it at his groin.

“What- the fuck” Mickey can barley get the words out as he leans over, cupping himself in the hopes that it will ease the pain.

“And that’s for not inviting me ass face.”

“Why the fuck did I get a kick in the balls and all Ian got was a punch in the gut?”

“Because I know you are the bottom so Ians dick is more valuable. Consider it a late wedding present, which, since I wasn’t invited, you’re lucky you’re even getting one.”

Mickey and Ian straighten up as they collect themselves, both able to breathe again.

“We get it okay, fuck. How many times do we have to say we’re sorry.”

Mickey is still holding himself as he tries to walk off the burn.

“One more time and you’re taking me out for dinner tonight _and_ paying.”

Mickey looks towards Ian as if to say he is ready to throw Mandy out on the street. His husband puts his hand on Mickeys shoulder to calm him down and turns towards Mandy.

“Mandy, once again, I am so, so sorry for proposing to your brother without letting you know or without asking for your permission.”

“What the fuck, permission, I’m not some virgin bride that needs-” Ian cuts Mickey off before he can continue with his rant.

“ _We_ are also sorry that we didn’t think to send out an invite and most of all we are sorry that it took us this long to see you because we both love you and have missed you dearly. I mean, we probably wouldn’t have hooked up if it wasn’t for you.”

Mandy quickly wipes a tear away from her cheek and acts like the apology was only some what acceptable, arms still crossed over her chest, which was more for show thana representation of how she felt.

“Damn straight. Always remember Mick, he was my boyfriend first.”

“Whatever bitch.”

They all come together for a hug, letting out a few laughs as the tension passes between them.

“Alright this is too much like an episode of fucking Opera for me, so I’ll get your bags, Ian go get some beers from the fridge, I need a fucking drink after that nice warm welcome.”

They break apart, Ian and Mandy heading towards the kitchen as instructed, Mickey collecting his sisters bags. He’ll complain black and blue about being a slave for his sister, she doesn’t have to know how much he has missed the banter.

It was like they have never been apart. Hours had passed, empty bottles covered the kitchen table as the sun began to set outside.

“Wait, he did what?”

“Yep, the fucker was so determined to stop the wedding that he burnt down our reception venue.”

“Shit! And you both made it out unharmed?”

“Well Mickey was ready to kill him so I may have punched him a few times to calm him down.”

“And I may have bit him so he would let me go.”

“So, define unharmed.”

Mandy shakes her head and chuckles.

“I mean would it really be a Southside wedding if bruises weren’t involved.” Mandy had a point.

Mickey thinks about telling Mandy the real reason why he hadn't invited her to their wedding, he knew she’d bitch about it being a piss poor excuse but Mickey had dealt with a pissed off Mandy before, he could handle it. Truth is, Mandy got out, she is free, living a life outside of the Southside and he worried that bringing her back for their wedding would somehow make her feel obligated to return home, wanting to stay close to him, be a _normal_ family, not that normal could honestly be used to describe the Gallagher or Milkovich bloodline. Most of all though, he didn’t want Terry knowing where she was. Terry was a threat to Ian and himself and he wanted to keep it that way. Mandy no longer had to worry about him. Unsure what Terry would have done had he seen Mandy leading up to that their wedding, Mickey knew he made the right choice.

She would argue how hypocritical his actions were because here she is, back in the Southside with Terry still hanging around, still an issue, but Mickey knew that Terry trying to stop something from happening compared to Terry just being angry are two very different people. Terry would have done anything to prevent Mickey from getting married that day, threatening Mandy would have been one of those options. Now, Terry is just pissed off that he lost.

They laugh at the joke but deep down the notion that this is the life they have been dealt hits them harder than it has before. An awkward silence falls across them all. As Ian is about to ask how the drive down was in hopes of filling the silent void, Debbie walks in all frantic, smelling like spoilt cheese, sour milk, with a crying Franny on her hip.

“Oh thank god you’re home. I had to pick Franny up from day care, something about a temperature, then on the way home she threw up all over me and if I don’t shower I’m going to throw up next. Can you give me a hand? Maybe give her a look over, make sure everything is okay.”

Ian jumps up, goes straight for his niece, not even flinching at the smell. Franny rests her head on her uncles shoulder, needing comfort and reassurance. Ian whispers sweet, calming words into her ear to help sooth his niece.

“Hey firefly, are you not feeling well? How about Uncle Ian has a look, hmmm.”

He walks up stairs, Debbie not far behind. Just when Mickey thinks it's only himself and his sister left in the room, Debbie pokes her head back down the stairs.

“Mandy you’re back!”

“Yeah, just for a few weeks. Check up on the newlyweds.”

“Good to have you here, we’ll have to catch up, girl talk.”

Mandy doesn’t even have a minute to respond before Debbie is up the stairs again. They hear the water running in the shower, that bathroom door quickly closing shut.

“So Debbie has a kid?”

Mickey nods and takes a sip from his beer.

“Yeah, Franny. Little red was like, 15 or some shit, got knocked up. Baby daddy split, then died in action. Debs has been doing the whole single mum thing since.”

“Ian seems good with her.”

“Since when is Ian _not_ good with kids.”

“Trying to tell me something there Mick?”

Mandys smirk says it all.

“Fuck no. We haven’t even been married a year, we still live in this house with the numerous people that just waltz in and out, Frank included. And, oh yeah, lets not forget our murderous father that would just love to hear he is now a granddad thanks to his gay ass son.”

“See while you were saying all that, all I heard was _not yet_.”

Mickey gives her the finger, hoping she'll drop the subject. The last thing he needs is Ian to hear him talking kids with Mandy, it will set off a whole conversation Mickey is not ready for, yet.

“Well whenever it happens Mick, you’ll make a great dad. You both will. Don’t doubt that just because you have Terry as a father.”

He looks down at the condensation coming off his beer bottle, acting like its the most fascinating thing in the room. Mickey allows his sisters words to wash over him, in that moment it hits him, the realisation of why he has been so reluctant to be a father himself is because he never had one that he looked up to, that he could model himself after. Somehow Mandys words calmed him, almost to the point of being excited at the thought of one day having a little girl or boy calling him Dada. Mandy doesn’t comment on the slight blush that arises on Mickeys cheeks or the way he gets this little twinkle in his eye as he sits there silently, hopefully, daydreaming about a day to come.

“Here we go firefly. Why don’t you go see Uncle Mickey while I get you some dry crackers to ease that tummy of yours.”

Ian hands Franny over to Mickey, she instantly clings onto him, wrapping her legs around his waist, curling into his neck and snuggling into him like a safety blanket. Ian had cleaned her up, changed her into a pair of grumpy cat pj’s which always make her smile. They’re Franny’s favourite when she is feeling unwell, claiming that they remind her of her grumpy Uncle Mickey.

“Did you throw up on mum today firefly?”

She nods without moving her head away from his neck.

“It’s alright. I always say that you never know how much someone loves you until they vomit on you. Just ask your Uncle Ian over there.”

“Mick that was one time and I was adjusting to new meds.”

“Whatever makes you feel better Firecrotch. All I know is, _my_ crotch was covered in chunks of pineapple from the pizza you ate that night and I swear if I didn’t love you I would have decked you. You try combing vomit out of your pubes next time and we’ll see how you like it.”

Mickey would never hold what happened against Ian, however the look on Ians face every time he brings it up is worth it. Ian has told his husband numerous times to be careful of the stories he shares around Franny, however she seems to love the honesty that comes out of her uncles mouth, even if it is followed by an array of foul language. 

Mandy spits beer out of her mouth at the mental image that is now playing in her head. It’s not going to be easy to forget the sight of Ian vomiting on her brother while he was going down on him. The cringe and shudder she lets out is enough for Ian to continue the story.

“As I recall, I did warn you that I was feeling nauseous."

"And as I recall, I told you to sleep it off, but _someone_ was a horny bastard."

"Thankfully it came up before anything else came up, if you get my drift.” Ian winks at Mandy

“Message received, lets change the topic before I have nightmares.”

Franny suddenly realises someone else besides her uncles were in the room with her. She slowly turns her head just enough so she can look at Mandy without letting go of Mickey or lifting her head from his shoulder.

“Firefly, this is your Aunty Mandy. She’s my sister.”

Mandy gives her a little wave.

“Firefly, that’s a pretty nickname. Who gave you that?”

“Uncle Mickey gave it to me. Says it’s cos my hair is bwight wed and lights up the sky like a fwiefwy.”

Mandys heart melts. Growing up, the only side of her brother people got to see was either a pissed off Mickey or an angry Mickey. To the untrained eye they were similar, but one had more chance of hitting you with his ‘fuck’ knuckles than the other, she knew which one ended with a beat down. Sitting in the Gallagher house, all these years later, seeing this beautiful young girl cling to her brother while she explained that he was the one that gave her the nickname was a side of Mickey everyone deserved to see. Mandy always knew that Mickey showed his affection through nicknames. If he felt comfortable enough and didn’t want to show how much he cared, he’d always give that person a nickname and act like it was an insult rather than a compliment. Ian knew all about that, along with Debbie and now her adorable little girl.

“I loved chasing fireflies when I was your age, I remember how they could light up a nights sky as if the sun was shinning. Uncle Mickey picked the perfect nickname for you because your beautiful red hair is just like their lights.

“Just like Uncle Ians haiw?”

“Exactly! Your Uncle Mickey has a soft spot for redheads.”

Mandy winks at Mickey, his scowl says fuck you but the slight smirk he is trying to hide says she isn’t wrong. Ian walks back with some dry crackers, Franny happily takes them from his hand while still holding onto Mickey, happy to stay in his arms while she eats.

Debbie stumbles back down the stairs, showered, hair still damp and dressed for comfort. Pleased to see Franny settled, even more pleased that she was eating something that wasn’t coming back up. She grabs herself a beer from the fridge, surprised to see there was still some left.

“She is beautiful Debs. You’ve raised a wonderful little girl.” Sitting opposite Mandy, the compliment brings colour to her cheeks.

“Thanks. Honestly, she is the one good thing I did right in my life.” Deb admires her daughter, watching as Frannys eyes slowly drop while a half eaten cracker is in her mouth.

“So where are you staying while you are down?”

“Just at a hotel near by, work is covering it as an expense even though I’m not working.”

“Are you still-”

Mickey didn’t want to say escort. Ian had told him in Prison about the time he helped Mandy out. Mickey refused to live his life with regrets, but the few he had, Mandy was easily one of them. At the time when she was dating Kenyatta, the word coward comes to mind when he remembers how he just let that asshole hurt his sister. He should have stopped her from leaving with him, talked some sense into her, maybe then she never would have found herself in a situation where she sold herself to help pay the bills. He reminds himself that his sister is stubborn and would have left no matter what he had said or done. He tells himself that he too was struggling with a wife he hated, a kid he couldn’t look at and a boyfriend who he was watching constantly for any changes in his moods or behaviour. The guilt settled once Ian had assured him that she was at least happy, safe. He couldn’t deny that he was pleased to hear those words while describing his sister, however he was still her big brother, she never should've felt unsafe in the first place, that’s why they are called regrets.

Looking back now, Ian too felt somewhat to blame, if it wasn’t for his Bipolar, Mickey would have been paying more attention to Mandy rather than keeping an eye on Ian, watching for mood changes and sleep patterns. When she called up needing help to discard a body, Ian didn’t even blink an eye, it was the least he could do and if it turned out the guys death was Mandys fault, he would have helped dig the grave.

“No, no. I ah, met someone, through that _job_ and he offered me a position at his company. I started off as his secretary, cliche, I know, but I worked hard, now I travel to different cities, make sure they are up to speed on the release dates for new products, talk with the test groups and send feedback to the manufacturers.”

“Test groups? What products does this company make?”

“Female self pleasure devices” Mandy mumbled the words so softly Mickey wasn’t sure he heard correctly.

“Self pleasure- You mean dildos? You work for a fucking Dildo company?” Mickeys eyebrows shoot up. His loud voice startles Franny, everyone freezing until they notice her settle back into Mickeys neck.

“Not _just_ dildos but yes, okay. Woman have needs and sometimes they need assistance.”

“Jesus fucking christ.”

“If it makes you feel any better I brought you our latest release which became number 1 on the market within a week.”

“Unlike some, I like my dick attached to a person thanks, I’m good.”

Ian couldn’t help but smirk, knowing full well that they have a box full of toys hidden in their room upstairs which include various items, some of which being dildos. Mickey wasn’t lying though, they only ever bring out the toys when Ians meds start effecting his ability to perform. Although Mickey always reassures Ian that he doesn’t care, reminding him that his mental health comes first, while the sex comes second, happy to wait for the medication to adjust, Ian hates knowing that he can’t take care of his man. It’s in those moments that Ian sits back, happy to watch while he slowly takes Mickey apart, inch by inch, thrust by thrust. There is nothing he loves more than seeing Mickey whither at the way Ian drags the dildo out of him at a sufferingly slow pace only to push it back in quicker than Mickey can take in a breath. The beads of sweat that Ian licks from his neck while tweaking at his hard nipples is enough to bring Mickey to the edge. Moments before he comes, Ian moves down, swallows Mickey whole, taking every inch all the way to the back of his throat, not allowing a single drop of cum to escape his mouth. Yeah, Mickey prefers Ians dick but sometimes, _sometimes_ he will make an exception.

Mickey can read his husband, his eyes focused on a random spot, indicating his mind is elsewhere, lost in a memory or thought. From the way colour has creeped up his neck and cheeks, Mickey is positive he is thinking of the fun they had a few months back, shortly after the vomit incident, with a much more satisfying ending. Not wanting to get a hard on while his niece was in his lap, Mickey notices that Franny had finally fallen asleep and could now move her to bed.

“Want me to take her?”

‘Nar it’s alright, don’t want to move her more than I need to, I’ll just take her up to bed.”

Mickey stands up to leave, slowly walking up the stairs hoping that the movement won’t stir Franny awake.

“He is so good with her. I’ve never seen that side of him before, not even with-”

Mandy stops herself. It’s been years since she thought of Yevgeny, not knowing how the name would effect Ian or Mickey, she decides not to continue. She always wondered the full story to that part of her brothers life. One minute Mickey is marrying this whore he knocked up, the next she has a drunk Ian confessing his love for her brother, talking about how they have been sleeping around for months. It never made sense. She knew there was more to the story than what her brother was letting on, especially when she caught Mickey crying the day Ian came to say goodbye to her. Deep down Mandy had always hoped that one day he would be comfortable enough to discuss it with her, one day.

“So how’s everyone else?”

Ian knew who Mandy was asking about. She said everyone else to sound polite, interested, but really she only wanted to know about one other Gallagher besides Ian.

“Fiona is still travelling. Last I heard she was in Australia hooking up with some surfer. If it’s any consolation she wasn’t at the wedding either.”

“It’s not but continue.”

“Carl is joining the police force. I’m not sure if having a cop in the family will work for us or against us, Mickey seems to oink every time Carl is in his uniform so I guess that says enough. Liam is doing well in school, top of his class in everything, I swear that kid has more smarts than Lip.”

Ian notices the slight adjustment in Mandys body language when she heard him say Lips name.

“Lip has a son. His name is Freddie, he live just down the road with Tami, his, girlfriend, baby mumma? I actually don’t really know their status, I’ve learnt to stay out of it. He is also 6 months sober after recently relapsing.”

Mandy deflates as she learns of Lips situation.

“He’s in AA?”

“Yeah. Things turned bad for awhile while he was in college, then they got worse and then he realised, or maybe we helped him realise that, we already have a Frank Gallagher, we don’t need another one in the family. So he got some help, he did rehab, he did the steps, got a sponsor and now here we are.”

“I’m fucking starving.” Mickey belches as he walks back down the stairs, looking over to the table to see if anyone else is feeling the same.

“Pizza?”

“Did I not say that you owed me dinner and that you were paying?”

“Okay, so I’ll order you a pizza all for yourself, bitch. Don’t think I’m taking you to some classy restaurant just because your sugar daddy has heightened your tastebuds.”

“Whatever, as long as it has extra cheese.”

“You know you can stay here tonight rather than rush back to the hotel. Carl is working nights and Liam is at a friends so my old room is free for the taking.”

“Thanks, if I drink anymore beer I may just have to take you up on that.”

“Please, I’ve seen you drink three times this amount and then wrestle some bitch to the ground for calling you a slut”

Mandy gives him the finger, Ian just laughs. Ian has missed this. Missed the banter between the Milkovich siblings, the feeling of having family together and all under the one roof. Everyone is growing up, drifting apart, starting their own family and Ian loves that. There is nothing, besides Mickey, that brings joy to his life than seeing his siblings happy, but he isn’t going to lie and say he hasn’t noticed the drift.

They are lucky to hear from Fiona once or twice a month, sure she spent her teens and most of her twenties taking care of them but now it’s as if they are an after thought. Ian did in fact invite Fiona to their wedding, when she called to say she couldn’t book a flight in time, some piss poor excuse if you ask him, part of Ian felt like it was Fionas way of saying she still didn’t approve of him and Mickey. So much has happened since he went to prison, more than Fiona will ever know. She never knew their whole story and because of that, Ian knew she would never fully understand what they went through to get where they are today, what they endured, what they survived, what they had to struggle with. But that was for them to know, that wasn’t anybody else’s business and they shouldn’t have to know it in order to accept their love.

Lip is off playing house with Tami. Ian recalls back in the day when Karen Jackson said she was pregnant, he watched Lip take charge, step up. From that moment Ian knew Lip would always be a phenomenal father, he thinks it’s all Lip has ever wanted to be. Lip took care of Ian, Carl, Debbie and Liam like they were his own kids. Although Ian was only a year younger than Lip, somedays he was his brother, others he was the father figure he turned to for advice.

Debbie was constantly busy with work or Franny, Ian was proud of her. Adjusting to his meds and going through a breakup made it hard for Ian to fully support Debbie during her pregnancy, but every day he is blown away when he sees Franny, knowing that Debbie did that. She sacrificed and fought tooth and nail to raise Franny the right way, giving her all the things they never had growing up.

So yeah, he’s happy for his family and he misses them dearly, but he knows one day soon he and Mickey will be joining his siblings by extending the Gallagher family tree with kids of their own.


	2. The Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Terry threatens Ian and Mickey at the Gallagher house, Mickeys past is brought to the surface, reliving a trauma he has spent years trying to forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please check updated Tags
> 
> This chapter discusses the rape that Mickey and Mandy were victims of. 
> 
> In reference to the tag "Implied/Referenced Suicide" It is in regards to Mickey taking substances in the hopes that he would overdose.
> 
> Italics are memories from the past.

Hands still in his pockets, the first thing Mickey does is spit on Terrys grave, he watches as the saliva lands on the T and slowly drips down. He skipped out on the service that was held for him a few days ago. Terry was never there for Mickey, his earliest memory was clouded with Terry yelling how much of a pussy he was, crying over a scraped knee. Terry probably wished Mickey had died in the womb, so why would Mickey take time out of his day to mourn the bastard.

“Death is too easy for you.”

The venom in his voice doesn’t even shock Mickey.

“For years, all I did was try to make you proud, and for what? So you could beat us when we screwed up. So you could belittle us and make us feel like shit.”

“I hated myself because of you. You made me feel like I was disgusting. Made me believe that something was wrong with me, because liked guys, because I'm gay.”

He turned around so his back was to the headstone. Thankfully the cemetery was still empty, the last thing Mickey needed was an audience.

“I tried. I tried so fucking hard to change who I was. Alcohol, drugs, fuck, even meaningless sex with woman. I felt so empty, incomplete, but I thought, fuck, at least I’m alive right. At least I’m safe from my dad finding out the truth and killing me. How fucked up is that. A 15 year old son having to find ways to not be killed by his own father.”

He turned back to Terrys headstone as if he was looking at the man himself.

“Finally I found happiness, I found a reason to live. But you had to take that away from me too, didn’t you. That day you found Ian and I, I swore I was a dead man. As long as I was able to distract you long enough to save him, I didn’t give a shit what you did to me. Beat me. Kill me. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was Ian being safe, but then, then you called her.”

A tear rolled down the side of Mickeys face and he crumbled to the ground. He bent his knees so he could rest his head between them as the memories came flooding back.

_“Send over the Russian”_

_Mickey could barley breathe, his eyes wanted to close, his body was on the verge of passing out, to try and heal, to succumb to the pain. But those words, Mickey was convince he was about to be tortured, pulled apart, fingernails ripped off, bones broken, cuts so deep that they would need stitches to heal. He got a second wave of adrenaline as the possibilities kept him alert. He looked over at Ian, blood on his head, in his mouth, bruises forming on his chest. He wanted to reach over, hold him close, whisper to him that everything was going to be okay, that he wouldn’t let Terry or this Russian hurt Ian anymore than he already was. He wanted to do and say so much, but that gun was aimed right at Ian and that scared him more than if the gun was aimed at himself. Then she walked in._

"You were so concerned about the Milkovich reputation, worried what having a gay son meant for your street cred. You happily sat back, holding a gun to my head while you organised and watched me get raped."

Weight was lifted from his shoulders, air was entering his lungs, if he knew confronting Terry about that day would make him feel this way, maybe he would have tried to do it sooner, maybe.

_He couldn’t look at Ian without seeing the hurt and disgust on his face. A part of him knew that the disgust was aimed at Terry, but at the time, Mickey couldn’t help but feel like it was aimed at him. He wanted it to be over, he wanted to scrub himself clean in a shower, again and again and again until his skin was raw and bleeding. Everything hurt, the way she was moving on top of him after he had the shit kicked out of him didn’t help. He wanted to throw up. It felt like it was going on forever and he wanted it to end, he needed it to end. One look at Ian and he could see how it was breaking him. Mickey gave him this look, praying that Ian understood what he was trying to say. Mickey always felt vulnerable at the way Ian could read him so easily, but in that moment he was thankful, because a look was the only way Mickey could comminuted without them getting hurt._

_I’m sorry._

_Don’t watch._

_This means nothing to me._

_SHE means nothing to me._

_He flipped her over and did what he had to do in order for it to be over._

“I wanted to die after that day. You took everything from me, but that moment there was like the last piece of me was gone and I had nothing left. You felt so proud, so accomplished thinking you had _fixed_ me.”

Mickey rubs his knuckles over his nose.

“That night I drank and drank and drank, praying the alcohol poisoning would take my life, and if that didn’t work maybe the cocaine running through my veins would tip me over.”

He shakes his head at the memory and looks back down at his knees, arms wrapped around his legs to keep them pressed up against his body.

“Guess I wasn’t even strong enough to die though right. Instead I woke up in a pile of vomit and you just acted like nothing ever happened.”

Mickey presses his palms into his eyes, dragging them to the side to wipe the tears off his face.

“Rape was just second nature to you though wasn’t it. I should have killed you in your sleep.”

*****

**3 weeks earlier**

Mickey didn’t realise how much he misses having his sister around until now. Having her in his life every day for the last week has brought back memories of what it was like all those years ago, when the three of them were always together. Ian and Mickey spoke to their boss, finding a way so one of them is always at home, being able to spend time with Mandy while the other is at work. Being a packing warehouse, it was as easy as rotating their schedule so one was on dayshift while the other took the nightshift, thankfully they could still share the same days off. Mandy was adamant that they didn’t have to go through the trouble of changing their matching work schedule, which she found super cute and was not afraid to tease them about it.

“You bitch and moan about how long it's been since we've seen each other, and now that I've actually organise it so we can spend time together, you want me to fuck off.”

“Well I didn’t expect you and Ian to act like I need a babysitter, having one of you with me 24/7.”

“Don’t act like you don’t love it.”

“I do.” Mandy gives a smirk like she just won an argument that Mickey didn’t even know they were having.

“Good, because trying to find time to have sex now that our schedulesclash is fucking impossible, so you owe me.”

“Whatever. I know you just got laid before Ian left for work, I could hear the moans all the way down here.”

Mickey smirks into his beer bottle as his sits down on the couch beside her.

“That’s what I thought.” She grumbles, once again winning the discussion.

Mickey sits down, satisfied at the slight burn as his ass hits the cushion. He could still feel Ians cum slowly dripping out of him and though he’d never admit it, not even to Ian, it was the best feeling after they had sex. It was that piece of Ian that he still had inside of him when they were apart, claiming him as Ians, marking him as being owned. When they were younger and hooking up, he’d pretend that it annoyed him. He'd rush off, acting like he needed to clean up, giving him an excuse to leave straight after they fucked, when in reality, Mickey would then go back home or to the abandon building and just lay there, feeling is slowly leak out of him. For once in his life, he felt like he belonged to someone.

“We should go out”

“Where?” Mickeys face showed confusion because he honestly had no idea where Mandy wanted to go that was going to be even remotely enjoyable. Besides the Alibi, some shitting restaurants and diners or clubs that Mickey vowed to never again step foot in, entertainment in the Southside was limited.

“I don’t know. I’ve been gone for a few years, surely some things have changed around here.”

Mickey remembers this bar Ian was telling him about on the border of the North side. It had live music Friday and Saturday nights. Considering Ian was excited to check it out, he didn't want to go there without his husband. Mickey is about to suggest that they could all go tomorrow since it was their night off, when the sound of glass smashing draws his attention.

Mandy lets out a scream as two bricks fly through the front window. Mickey rushes over to her, pulls her to the ground, holding her down to kept her out of view from the smashed windows.

“Burn in hell you fagots!” The words are screamed out of a car as gun fire he heard, a couple of rounds coming through the windows, shattering the glass that the bricks didn't break.

Mickey is holding his sister, he frantically looks around to see how he can reach the gun he had hidden in the downstairs closet. By the time he finds a safe passage he hears the tires screech on the road as they drive off. He waits less than a minute before he stands, running to the door, he swings it open in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the car or whoever was inside. No luck.

“FUCK!”

He slams the door closed, walks back over to Mandy as she stands and brushes herself off.

“Hey, you okay? You hurt?”

She shakes her head.

“I’m fine.”

He runs his hand down his face and takes a breathe. He needs to fix this before Debbie and Franny come home. He's just thankful they weren’t in the house when it happened. Mandy walks over to the bricks and gives them a look. She picks the first one up, a piece of paper is wrapped around the brick, a rubber band keeping it in place. She notices a message is written on it. Before she reads it, she goes to collect the second brick, which also has a rubber band holding a note around it. She takes them both off the bricks and reads them in order.

**If the faggot couldn’t get fucked out of you…**

**Maybe it can get fucked out of your bitch of a husband.**

Mandy feels her stomach drop as if she just went down the dip on a rollercoaster. Her voice is barley a whisper as she calls out to Mickey.

“Mick?”

Her voice puts Mickey on alert, he cautiously walks over to her, noticing the tension in her body language.

“What does Terry mean by fuck the faggot out of you?”

Mickeys face turns white.

They sweep up the glass and clean the area. Mickey calls in a favour with a guy he knows, he'll come by tomorrow to replace the windows, no questions, no charge, they were now square. For the meantime, Mandy found some old cardboard boxes in the basement which she cut up to cover the windows, using some duct tape to keep them in place. No obvious holes were in the walls from the bullets and they couldn't find anything smashed. Mickey figured that no one would know it even happened. He can let them assume it was just the bricks that damaged the windows.

Mickey walks upstairs to call Ian. The warehouse doesn't allow them to carry their phones with them, but when either of them work nights, they generally break the rule incase they need to get in contact with one another. Mickey is praying that tonight Ian has decided to follow the rule and has kept his phone in his locker. The last thing he wants to do is worry Ian while he still has hours left of his shift, but he knows his husband would be more upset if Mickey kept this from him until he returned in the morning. On the third ring, Mickey thinks luck may be on his side. He'd leave a voicemail message that can soften the blow, letting Ian know everything is okay. Unfortunately on the fourth ring, Ian picks up.

“Hey, sorry, I had to run down one of the aisles so I could answer without being seen. What’s up?”

Mickey bites his bottom lip and takes in a deep breath.

“Mick? What’s wrong?”

“Don’t panic, okay?”

“You know the minute you tell me not to panic I’m going to panic. What’s happened?”

“Terry.”

One name, five letters. His name has had more power over them since the day they hooked up in Mickeys bedroom, when Ian came at him with a crowbar, demanding a gun to be given back to him.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. We’re safe. The front windows got most the damage but I got a guy stopping by tomorrow to fix them, so it’s all good.”

“Can we report him? Can we prove at all that it was him.”

“I doubt the bricks he threw at the windows would hold up as evidence.”

“Fuck”

Mickey didn’t mention the notes. He will, but that can wait. For now, Ian knows what happened. He knows that he and Mandy are safe and that’s all he needs to be aware of. When Ian is home, in Mickeys arms, he will show him what Terry wrote so that he can keep him calm and make sure he doesn’t work himself up into a panic.

Ian has been managing his medication, no slip ups or episodes, however a few months back Mickey noticed that Ian may need a change in meds, it can happen just from the body developing a tolerance, the drugs no longer working like they should. Seeing Ian extra tired, starting to lack motivation, he suggested they visit the clinic. His doctor decided to change Ian to Duloxetine. It took a week or so, but it helped. Ian balanced out and they have been lucky that all this stress hasn’t triggered a full episode.

Mickey is always cautious of where Ian is and how he’s feeling whenever anything Terry related comes up. Right now, Ian is at work where Mickey can’t see him. He can’t touch him. He can’t be there to bring his mind back from the brink of overdrive. Mickey knows he has to keep this information to himself, because keeping Ian safe has always, and will forever be, his first priority.

“Look, I’ll see if they can let me come home, it’s pretty dead tonight anyway so I’ll just-”

“No! We need the money and the job. I promise everything is okay here. I just wanted to tell you, let you know what happened.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m sure.”

“Okay, I’m going to keep my phone on me, so call if you need me to come home.”

Mickey nods his head, fully aware that Ian can’t see him.

“Mickey, I love you.”

“Love you too.”

He hangs up and allows Ians words to wash over him. It’s given him that small amount of courage to face what is waiting for him downstairs. He knew one day this would come up, but he was honestly hoping it would be way, way down the line in the far distant future. He rubs his hand down his face, cups his mouth and lets out a breath.

When he gets downstairs, Mandy is at the kitchen table, two beers are open with a few more sitting to the side and a joint in her hand.

“I was going to save this for the three of us but I figured tonight would be putting it to better use.”

She lights it up and passes it straight to Mickey. He hasn’t smoked in almost a year, with the risk of a drug test coming up positive whenever his PO decides to ask for a urine sample, he and Ian have been avoiding pot at all costs. Fuck it, that’s tomorrows problem and if worse comes to worse, he will say he was under stress due to an attack on his family. Maybe he can get some clean piss and get carl to swap out the samples or something. What’s the point of having a cop in the family if he can’t help them out here and there.

Half the joint is burnt through before he even passes it back to Mandy. He already feels the pot relaxing his body, his skin no longer feels like it has this itch, similar to the one he felt that day. He can sense Mandys eyes staring him, waiting. He wraps his hand around the beer bottle, he picks at the label that has begun to peel away due to the condensation.

“It was Svetlana wasn’t it.”

Mickey nods his head. He leans forward and places both his elbows on the table, but still doesn’t look at his sister. He keeps his eyes down as he begins to talk.

“Remember that time Ian and Lip were at the group home, when Frank called DCFS on Fiona?”

Mickey doesn’t wait for her response.

“By then, Ian and I had been hooking up for 2 years or so. You were going to crash with Lip and I knew Terry was on a job so I told Ian he could crashed at our place. Honestly, at the time, I don’t even know why I asked him to come over. I think I just wanted one night where Ian and I could just be, you know. It wasn’t some quick fuck in a storage room or an alley, we could take our time, hang out, talk.”

He takes a sip of his beer.

“The next morning, we were having sex on the couch and Terry walks in.”

He can hear the small gasp coming from Mandy and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he relives the worst day of his life.

“He went after Ian, just punching the shit out of him. I don’t even remember what he was saying to us, all I was thinking about was getting Ian out of there, getting him safe. We all know how a one on one ends with Terry though, no way could I hold my own against him, but I tried. I jumped on his back, got in a few punches. He then pulls out his gun, pistol whips me to the point where I almost pass out.”

Mickey sniffs back the tears that he can feel are on the edge of falling.

“I come to, the gun is pointed at Ian and Terry calls someone asking for the Russian. I thought I was about to be killed but shortly after, in walks Svetlana. He ah-”

Mickey takes his hands off his beer, he begins to spin his wedding ring around his finger, a nervous habit Ian does when he is anxious, one he has obviously picked up himself. He squints his eyes shut and cringes at what he says next.

“He tells me she is going to fuck the faggot out of me and Ian is going to watch. I just, sit there, as he holds the gun to my head. Terry sits back and watches her get on top of me. I couldn’t stop her, I was scared of what he would do to Ian, I was too sore to even move and I just knew if I didn’t go along, then we were dead.”

Mickey suddenly feels a hand resting on his, he looks, noticing tears streaming down Mandys face. If he wasn’t already crying, the look of horror and sadness that were evident on his sisters face would have tipped him over.

“Mick I- I had no idea. Here I was acting like all those bruises was because you pissed off Terry for screwing up a deal or something when really- I mean. Wait, Yev?”

Mickey nods his head slowly.

“Was conceived through the product of rape.” He sniffs, shocked to hear that word escape his lips for the first time. Rape, he never once said it out loud, he knew thats what happened to him but thinking it and saying it was a whole new level of acceptance.

That was another thing Mickey always struggled with, acceptance. He had to learn to accept what happened, accept he was a victim. Who came up with these words. He felt like it was their way of sugarcoating a fucked up situation, he hated it.

“Holy fuck! I am such a bitch. All that crap I gave you about being a shitty father when- and the wedding! Ian going to the army, HOLY FUCK! “

Mickey could see that it was all clicking into place for Mandy. All these moments in his life, his and Ians relationship, slowly coming together, making sense.

“I tried Mands. I really tired. When Terry told me Svet was pregnant and that I had to marry her, all I thought about, was how saying yes would keep Terry away from Ian. I could live a lie for Terry and those around us and maybe, somehow, I could still be with him. That if the world saw me married then Terry would be happy that no one would suspect anything. But it hurt him, _I_ hurt him. So he left, he ran away because he couldn’t live like that, see _me_ living like that.”

“So when I knew Ian was back, I didn’t give a shit about Svetlana, about Terry, I wasn’t letting him get away again. Been chasing him ever since.”

Mickey sees the pain in his sisters eyes. He gives her a small smirk, to show that he is okay now, that it still hurt but he was in a better place in his life, a place with Ian, a place that made him, them, happy. He takes one hand out from under hers and places it on top, cupping her hand between both of his.

“Why didn’t you tell me Mick? I could have helped.”

He rubs his thumb over her hand in a soothing motion and looks her dead in the eyes.

“Probably for the same reason you didn’t tell me.”

Mandy tries to pull her hand out of Mickeys grasp but he just holds on tighter.

“How did you?”

“Ian told me. In the joint.”

Mandy rolls her eyes as if to say of course he did.

“Don’t do that. We were stuck in a cell together for a year, we had to find things to talk about and honestly, I’m just as upset that you felt like you couldn't tell me. I mean Jesus Christ Mandy, our own father!”

“He stopped once he went after Ian and I confronted him about it.”

“I don’t care that he stopped, it never should have happened in the first place.”

“Yeah, well, you were in juvie so not much you could have done.”

“That time I was, what about the other times, hmmm.” Mickeys eyebrows shoot up, he knew this time he would win the argument. 

“This isn’t about me, this is about you.”

“No, it’s about us and what we've had to survive because of that low life piece of shit. I’m not even a Milkovich anymore and he still wants to make my life a living hell.”

Mickey pushes back against the chair so he can stand up, the legs scratching against the floor from the force.

“For fuck sake Mandy, I could have had Iggy or Colin look out for you, I could have threaten to tell the cops I could have, I could-”

He starts to hyperventilate, all the what ifs flooding his head. Mandy rushes towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck as he breaks down.

“I could have- I _should_ have stopped him. You, me. So much would have been different if it had never happened.”

Ian suddenly walks through the backdoor and notices Mandy holding Mickey tight. Mickey is so overwhelmed with emotion that he doesn’t even register Ian's presence until Mandy lets him go and the feeling of Ian's arms wrapping around him bring him back to reality. The smell of his husband calms him as he breathes in his scent, resting his head in the crook of his neck. Tension leaves his body,his arms automatically wrapping themselves around Ians waist, the feeling of love and safety pushing out the negative thoughts that were threatening to take Mickey to a place he was scared he’d get lost in.

“It’s okay, I’m here Mick. Just breathe, okay, breathe for me.”

It’s not smooth. The stuttering in his voice preventing him from taking a solid breath, but it’s a start. Mickey tries to focus on Ian’s breathing so he can match his breathes with his.

Besides the sound of Mickey breathing in and out, the room is silent. Ian tries to look at Mandy, hoping for an explanation as to why he came home to his husband having a panic attack, when just over an hour ago they were talking on the phone, Mickey promising him that everything was okay. Before she can even explain, Mickey lets out a whisper, barley loud enough for Ian to hear.

“I told her, everything. About-”

Mickey doesn’t even have to finish the sentence, that’s how well they know each other. Ian holds him tighter, knowing what story Mickey shared with Mandy. She was now aware of the dark history they had, what Mickey had suffered. Nothing else matter in that moment expect making sure he was there for his husband.

“I told work that my father in law had threatened my husband and they let me come home. They’ll still pay me in full. Turns out Jackson is also gay and sympathised with our situation.”

Ian was aware that Mickey wouldn't be concentrating on anything he was saying . He just wanted to fill the silence, find a way to change the subject.

“Come on, it’s late. Why don’t we head up to bed.”

Mickey pulls away, he walks upstairs without looking up at Ian or acknowledging Mandy . When Ian hears the bedroom door click shut he turns to Mandy, tears still in her eyes but relieved that Ian is home to comfort her brother.

“So, now you know.”

“Honestly I don’t think he would have told me if it wasn’t for Terrys threat.”

“Threat?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

“He just said that Terry threw bricks through the windows. It’s why I came through the back, incase they were still watching the house.”

Mandy huffs in annoyance as she walks into the living room to retrieve the notes.

“I swear you two, I understand the need to protect one another but when it comes to Terry, nothing can be off limits.”

Mandy thrusts the notes into Ians hand, acting as though holding them was burning her skin. She can see the moment Ian registers what Terrys threat involved. Ians face whitens, which is saying something considering how pale Ian is in general. Once the shock and disgust slips from his face, she notices his shoulders drop and the sadness appear in his eyes.

“Shit! Um, yeah okay, I’m going to head upstairs to Mick.”

Without even looking at Mandy, he heads towards the stairs.

“Hey Ian?”

“Yeah?”

He stops on the first step, turning back to face her.

“I’m sorry. What happened back then, it wasn’t just Mickey that suffered and you were my best friend, I should have seen it, should have helped.”

“It’s in the past now Mands. No one knew, except Lip. I only told him because Mickey getting married was killing me and I couldn’t stand the thought of losing the person I loved. But it wasn’t my story to tell. Mickey needed to be the one to tell you, when he was ready.”

“Then why did you tell him about the pregnancy? If Mickey's story was his to tell, then why wasn’t mine?”

It was a blow and after everything that happened tonight, starting a fight with Ian was not on her agenda, but she still needed to know.

“You’re right. You should have been the one to tell him. But one night, we were lying in our cell, talking about the day we would be out, what we would do. Mickey starts talking about how he would try and find you, make sure you were doing okay, that you were safe. So I told him about the night you called me, needing my help not long after his conviction. He wasn’t pleased to hear what you were doing, but he thanked me for having your back when he couldn’t. He was glad to hear that even though he and I weren’t together, I didn’t let that interfere with our friendship.”

He walks back towards her. He didn't feel right having this conversation so far apart.

“That’s when I knew I had to tell him, because I wasn’t there to help you back then, not like I should have been. Mickey was in juvie because of me, I should have stepped up in his absence, looked out for you, protected you, because not only were you my best friend but you were Mickeys sister, you were family because Mickey was my family.”

Mandy stands on her tippy toes and wraps her arms around Ians neck. She gives him a kiss on the cheek as she pulls away, leaving her arms around him but looking into his eyes.

“You may have been my boyfriend first, but you and Mickey always had each others hearts. I’m so glad you two found each other. Your story is messy but it's _your_ story. It’s the Southside version of Romeo and Juliet, minus them both dying at the end, I hope.”

Ian lets out a soft chuckle.

“Yeah, lets skip that part. I love you Mands and I love Mickey. Without him, I’m incomplete.”

“I know. It’s the same for him. I saw it when you were in the Army, you both can’t function without the other.”

“It’s because we aren’t living if we aren’t together.”

Mandy unwraps herself from his neck, running her hands down his arms, squeezing his biceps before letting him go.

“Go. Mickey needs you. I’ll stay here tonight if you need me, but you need to go be with him.”

Ian nods and heads back up the stairs towards his husband. As he opens their door, Ian notices that Mickey is on Ians side of the bed, facing the wall, curled up in the fetal position. Mickey always sleeps facing the door, it was a defence mechanism so he can see the entry point into his room. It manifested from years of having Terry barge in drunk or high, ready to start a fight over whatever was upsetting him that day, even if it had nothing to do with Mickey. He gently closes the door, not sure if Mickey has fallen asleep or is just lying there.

Ian begins to undress, discarding his work clothes onto the pile of dirty laundry sitting in the corner, crawling into their bed wearing nothing but his boxes.

“I’m fine.” Mickey whispers.

Ian wraps his body around Mickey, sliding his leg in between his so they are tangled together. He nuzzles into the back of Mickeys neck and places his arm around his waist so he can pull him against his chest. Linking their fingers, the only sound in the room is the soft _clink_ as their wedding rings tap together.

With no room left to move, Mickey still pushes his body against Ians, needing to feel as close as possible. They both breathe out simultaneously, Mickeys body melting into Ians as the sense of love and safety wash over him.

“I hate him. I hate him so fucking much.”

Ian doesn’t talk. He knows the best thing for Mickey is to hold him and listen.

“I hate what he did to Mandy, I hate what he did to me, to us. I hate that I was too weak to fight back, to stop it, but, what I hate more than anything is how he has the power to make me hate myself.”

The last line was barely a whisper but Ian heard it. He uses their linked hands, which are draped across Mickeys waist to gently roll him, needing Mickey to be facing him. Ian unlinks their hands and uses it to cup Mickeys face, slowly caressing his cheek until Mickey feels comfortable enough to look into Ians eyes.

“I hated being gay Ian. Before you came along, hell even for those first few years together, the minute we parted I just hated how much I had enjoyed being with you, how much I wanted to go back to you and just keep spending time with you. I’d come home, enjoying that high until he’d show up, blasting about some fag he just caught on the streets and wailed into.That feeling would then leave me, replaced by disgust and fear.”

“It wasn’t until that summer, the one where we all went to that pedophiles house, you know the teacher chick? She said, _I paid for my mistake, if love can be called a mistake,_ and I knew. I knew that what I was, what I liked, who I liked, it wasn’t a mistake. It wasn’t wrong. It was just me.”

“Is that why you went to Angie?”

“I went to Angie because I knew if I couldn’t be with her, then I couldn’t deny who I was anymore. Who I loved.”

“But you said-”

“I lied. I never fucked Angie.”

Silence fell between them. Ian waited, he could see Mickey was still struggling with something he needed to say.

“Terry is a part of me and for so long I tried to be like him, to make him proud, acting like him, following in his footsteps. I haven’t been that person in a long time, I left that life behind but, what if- what if it’s not all gone? What if I still have that hate and rage and disgust in me still? What if one day I go off at our kids, make them feel scared or feel like they are unloved, not wanted.”

Ians heart was breaking. After all these years he couldn’t believe that Terry still had this much of a hold on Mickey. He figured once he came out, that was it, Mickey was free and could cut all ties with Terry, walk away from everything and be himself.

“Mickey, I’m going to only say this once, so I need you to listen carefully. The only thing you have in common with Terry is the fact that you share the same last name, but you don’t even have that in common anymore. If you were anything like Terry, I never would have fallen in love with you. You, Mikhailo Aleksandr Gallagher have more love in your heart than hate. Look at the way you are with Franny. She loves and adores you and I know for a fact you would hunt down and torture anyone who even thought of hurting her. Thats not because you have part of Terry in you, that’s because when you love someone, you protect them with your whole body and soul. You would die for them just to make sure they were safe and no one could hurt them. Terry would never do that, he is a selfish lowlife who would hurt anyone to protect himself, even his own children.”

Ian presses his forehead to Mickeys.

“I am so proud of you, of what you have overcome, of what you have achieved. It is an honour to be able to call you my husband and when the time comes, when you're ready, I will be the luckiest man alive to be able to raise children with you and that’s because I know you will be an amazing father. You will be everything Terry wasn’t and more.”

It’s what Mickey needed to hear. A part of him always new this, but fear is a powerful tool. It can twist its way into his mind, body and soul and burrows deep enough to make him question everything he has ever believed. It tended to show itself when everything was going right for a change, when things were looking up. Thats what happened tonight. Sure, he has been fighting off Terry since he learnt of their engagement, but here he was, married, working, saving, happy and talking about the possible future of one day becoming parents. One threat, one reminder of the past, dredging up the memories of his trauma, it's all it took for fear to creep back in.

Mickey knew everything Ian said was true, he knew all his fears were in the past and not as relevant as they used to be, but he just needed the reassurance. Even though he knew what Ian said was correct, he needed to know that Ian believed it too. That he believed that Mickey wasn’t like him. He wouldn’t hurt Ian, or anyone close to him, like Terry did. He needed to hear it before he would be able to settle in for the night. 

“I love you Ian, so fucking much that it hurts. But it’s a pain I would never trade for anything.”

Ian kisses Mickeys forehead. He read once that a forehead kiss means protection. It means respect and says that _you’re mine, don’t ever leave my side._ It says that _I care about you and I don’t want you to get hurt._ It says _I’ll come between you and whatever tries to hurt you_. Ian isn’t really sure how a simple kiss can mean so much, but when he read it, it stuck with him because that was everything he wanted Mickey to feel when they were together. So he does it, he kisses his forehead and hopes the kiss says all those things to Mickey because it’s what he needs to hear, it’s how Ian feels and nothing will ever change that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter was a lot, it's only going to get more intense as we go, I'm sorry in advance.
> 
> All comments are appreciated. 
> 
> Shout out to Emily who helped with some of the editing, taking my worded paragraphs and fixing them at 1am in the morning. 
> 
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	3. Time to Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is it. This is the moment in Mickeys life where he knew Terry had to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please check additional tags.
> 
> This chapter has graphic depictions of violence and rape. I decided to write the aftermath of what happened, not the acts themselves. However if you would like to know what happens incase you need to skip it, spoilers in the end notes.
> 
> Thank you again to Emily to help untangle my jumbled paragraphs.

Mickey begins to notice that a few people are starting to wander into the cemetery. They’re far enough away that they won’t be much of a bother to him. The last thing he wants is the judgemental looks from strangers as he yells at his dead, abusive father. For now, any looks that get thrown his way, will see what looks like a young man mourning someone close to him. They’ll never know that these tears are not from loss or the sorrow of a loved one passing away.

He feels a vibration in his pocket. Without even checking he knows it’s from Ian.

“She was your daughter, your little girl. You could have hated the rest of us but Mandy was meant to be different. She was the innocent one. I did everything to make sure you always turned your hate onto me. Iggy and Colin made sure to follow your orders, but that still wasn’t enough to keep her away from you.”

Mickey can no longer stay sitting down. His anger building inside of him again. He needs to move. He needs to get rid of the energy that is surging through him. He needs to hit something, punch, shoot, let off some steam before he does something stupid. Mickey turns to his left, noticing a shovel resting against an open grave, waiting to be filled after a service that's being held that day.

He doesn’t even think twice. He walks over and picks up the shovel. Storming back, he raises the shovel above his head and slams it down onto Terrys headstone. The force of the steal hitting the stone sends a vibration through the handle. The impact immediately releases some of the anger that was building inside of him. He does it again. It's loud and most likely starting to draw attention, but he doesn’t stop.

“Fuck you you piece of shit”

On the third hit he finally sees a crack.

“I hate you”

Another hit. The crack gets wider.

“You will never be able to touch any of us ever again!”

Hit. Crack. A small piece of stone crumbles to the ground.

“Never will we fear you.”

Hit. Crack. Crumble. It splits down the middle, reminding Mickey of the ground opening up and dividing the earth into two. A huge chunk falls off the top righthand side, the tombstone now reads as:

_Terry Milk_

_1969 - 2_

His chest rises, trying to get air into his lungs as they burn for oxygen. They haven’t felt like this since his days of running away from the cops. Mickey can finally breathe. He drops the shovel to the ground, making one final _clink_ against the stone that has fallen on the dirt. Mickey looks at his handy work and spits at the dirt the covers the coffin, picturing it landing on Terrys body.

“I just wish it was me that got to put the bullet through your chest.”

***

**2 weeks earlier**

Sunday morning comes and Mickey’s enjoying the quiet of the Gallagher house. It’s a luxury that is as rare as having lube in prison. Mandy’s still at her hotel after the late night of drinking they had with Kev and V at the Alibi. Mickey feels at ease. His mind is relaxed. Ian’s arms tighten around Mickey’s waist as Ian pulls him in towards his chest. It’s like this sixth sense Ian has. His body just feels when Mickey is waking up, responding to it in a way that settles Mickey back to sleep. Mickey loves it. He’s never told Ian that he does it, never wanting to give him the pleasure of holding it over his head, but he won’t deny the skip his heart makes whenever it happens.

The threat from Terry put Ian and Mickey on edge. Deciding to act more on the side of caution, they set some rules for when either of them were not together. They agreed that safety in numbers was their best option. When leaving work, they decided on the buddy system, walking with someone that lives in the area, take the L with them and when it came time to seperate, walk the busier streets that took double the time to get home. During the day, they figured it wasn’t so much of an issue, Terry may be an idiot, but he isn’t stupid enough to do something in broad daylight that would get him thrown back in the joint. They were more concerned for when either of them had the nightshift.

Wondering what happened to the windows, they sat everyone down and Mickey explained how Terry decided to redecorate with a brick or two. Mickey didn't mention the notes. Ian agreed it was best not to inform them of the threat Terry made. It was Mickeys story to tell, he got to decide who knew that part of his life, his story, and the only way Ian's siblings would understand what the note meant, was if Mickey told them his past. 

Debbie decided it’d be a good idea to take Franny to a friend's house for a while, just until things settled down. Mickey knew that until Terry was either dead or in jail, nothing would ever be settled, but saying that right now would just add fuel to the fire. Liam went back to his friend Todd’s house. Todd’s grandmother had said that she’d happily have Liam for as long as they needed. Deep down Mickey figured that Liam was looking forward to going back to his friend’s house. With everyone either working or raising kids, they didn't have much time for him these days, which was a shame.

Mickey remembers what it was like when Liam was still a little kid. He didn't talk much. Just sat around and was really easy going. Mickey figured that had something to do with the accident but thankfully it didn't seem to have any long term effects. Liam’s smarter now than Lip was at his age. Still, he didn't mind having to take care of Liam when everyone else was busy. They’ve bonded, probably why Mickey has such a soft spot for him now.

Lip and Tami chose to keep away from the house, only stopping by if Ian and Mickey contacted either of them first. Carl wasn’t fussed, he was just going to sleep at the station which he did most nights already. It was settled, which is why Mickey was enjoying his quiet Sunday morning sleep in.

“Tell your brain to stop thinking and go back to sleep.” The way Ians morning voice could do things to him, that Mickey never thought was possible, was a talent in itself.

“It wasn’t so much my brain that woke me but more the throbbing dick thats poking me in the ass.”

Ian lays slow soft kisses on Mickeys neck.

“Technically, it’s not poking you in the ass, yet. But I can organise that to happen if you wish.”

“Why the fuck are we still talking then.”

Ian pulls Mickeys waist towards him so that he is laying on his back. He moves himself on top of Mickey, laying all his body weight down, trapping his husband beneath him as he begs to be touched.

“Hey fuck heads. Get your asses down here. I’m starving and you two still owe me a meal.”

Ian drops his head to Mickeys neck and groans.

“She always has the worst timing.”

“Don’t I fucking know it. Growing up in the house together, she would always barge into my room just as I was about to - MANDY WHAT THE FUCK!”

Their bedroom door swings open. Mandy stands in the doorway acting like it's nothing she hasn’t seen before. Mickey’s thankful the blankets are at least over them.

“You two can fuck whenever. I’m hungry so get your asses up.”

“Bitch, how are you even standing? You drank more than me last night and I can handle my booze.”

“What can I say, when your body gets accustomed to the finer wines of this world, the cheap shit is nothing in comparison.”

“Could you at least get the fuck out so we can get dressed.”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“When the fuck have you seen Ian naked?”

Ian chuckles into Mickeys neck. Mickeys eyebrows shoot up, indicating to Ian that he better start talking.

“Back when we lived at the house together. One bathroom, more than 6 people living in the house, it was unavoidable.”

“Let’s just say I now understand why you’re the bottom.”

Mickey grabs the shoe that’s on the floor next to the bed and throws it at Mandy’s head. Using the door as a shield, she quickly pulls it shut, the shoe making a thud as it makes contact with the door. Her giggles echo down the hall as she heads back downstairs. Mickey groans in frustration.

“How much longer is she visiting for?”

“She heads back in two days. Come on Mick, she’s your sister.”

“Like that makes a fucking difference. She's still annoying.”

They both unwillingly get out of bed and start getting dressed in whatever clothes they can find that pass for clean. Ian ends up putting on Mickey’s boxers while Mickey throws on Ian’s black long sleeve sweater. They both manage to find jeans before Ian has to dig around for a shirt to wear since his is currently on Mickey.

Ready to head downstairs, Ian has to stop Mickey before he walks out of their room.

“You can’t wear those jeans. You have to change.”

“What the fuck! Says who?”

“Says me. The way these jeans shape your ass and wrap around your thighs. Mick, I’m not even going to last the walk to the diner without pulling you into an alley and claiming you as mine.”

“Promise?” The mischievous look on Mickeys face shoots straight to Ian's dick.

“I swear to god! If you two are not down here in one minute, I'll film whatever it is you're doing and upload it to pornhub.”

“You heard the woman.”

Mickey goes to leave the room, smirking at Ian.

“Mick, I’m serious, just-”

Mickey is already out the door and half way down the stairs. Ian adjusted himself, needing to calm down before he joins Mickey and Mandy in the kitchen.

“Fucking cock tease.”

“Did you see the look on his face? It’s been a long time since I’ve seen someone get that scared around you Mick.”

“I guess it’s because the last time I saw him, I kick the shit out of him for taking it up the ass.”

Mandy looks at Mickey, the irony of that sentence not lost on her. Mickey couldn’t help but feel a little guilty about his actions all those years ago. At the time, he told the kid that he was getting a beat down because he was taking it up the ass. Honestly though, when he caught the kid getting pounded by Ian under the bleaches, in their spot, Mickey just needed an excuse to scare him off. Ian was his, even if he hadn't admitted to Ian yet.

“I don’t know if he was more shocked to see you sitting with me or to hear we were married. But he turned the colour of casper the ghost real fucking quick.” Ian was still laughing at the memory. Ian loves that he can openly share their relationship now. He knows Mickey still has some limits, like walking down the street holding hands or going to a pride parade. But if anyone asks why they are constantly together, he no longer has to lie and say they are just friends hanging out.

“Please, I did you a favour back then. I could hear you bitching about what a shitty lay he was before I even knew it was you.”

“Well, you know no one can compare to you, can they Mick.”

“Fucking right they can’t.”

“So, I was thinking that today we could go down to Navy Pier. I haven’t been there since we were kids and you used to scam ride tickets for us.”

Ians phone goes off. He quickly checks it, making sure it’s not one of his siblings needing help with something.

“Really? You have two days left here and you want to go to the most touristy fucking place in Chicago.”

“Can you for once just pretend you are excited to do something I want to do.”

“Jesus Christ, that sound like fun to you Firecrotch? Bunch of screaming kids hyped on sugar and waiting in line for a 30 second ride.”

Ian looks up from his phone.

“Um, yeah, sounds fun. It’s just going to be the two of you though. I’ve been called into work.”

“What the fuck, it’s a Sunday. We never work Sundays.”

“I know, but I just got this message that one of the guys called in sick. Now they are short staffed with a huge delivery coming in. Plus we could use the money, Sunday rates and all that.”

“Well, why the fuck did they call you in and not me?”

“I’m two years younger than you so technically, I’m cheaper to pay.”

“Fuck, fine. Go, leave me to suffer with my sister.”

“Hey!” She slaps Mickeys arm playfully but he still acts like it hurt.

“It’s only for a few hours, I’ll be back for dinner.” He leans in and gives Mickey a quick kiss before he heads back towards the Diner and the L.

Mickey can’t help but watch Ian as he jogs down the street. He keeps watch until he turns a corner and is no longer in his eyesight.

“You two really struggle being separated from one another don’t you.”

Mickey looks down and kicks an empty beer can that’s on the footpath.

“When you have been through what we have, waisted so much time due to stupid fights, crazy family members or fucking jail time, yeah, being apart is kinda hard.”

He wasn’t ashamed to admit it. The dark shadow that followed Mickey around his whole life is finally starting to drift away. The last few weeks, he and Mandy have exchanged horror stories from their past, moments that they kept to themselves. All those years of acting strong when they could have used each others support to help them get through their struggles. It felt, nice, to have someone else he could talk to, be honest with who didn’t judge or call him a pussy. Mickey knew he could always talk to Ian, but Mandy was different, she grew up in the Milkovich house of horrors, she understood it on a whole other level to Ian.

“Alright, let's go eat some cotton candy and see if we can get you to throw up after riding the wave swinger over and over again.”

“Whatever, I was ten.” Mickey chuckles at the memory of vomit flying in the air as the ride kept going. Mandy emptying her stomach as it rained down on those waiting on the ground.

“Still doesn’t make it less funny.” He throws his arm over her shoulder and pulls her into his side.

“The least you can do is win me a big teddy bear.”

“Oh I’ll win one, but I’ll give it to Ian. If you want a stuffed bear so badly, get your sugar Daddy to win you one.”

Walking through the doors of the Gallagher house, a giant teddy bear stuffed under each arm, Mickey was still laughing.

“I knew you would. Didn’t I tell you you would? Bitch, you owe me 20 bucks.”

Groaning and clenching her stomach, Mandy slowly walks in behind Mickey and slumps down on the couch.

“That ride spins a lot more quicker than I remember.”

“Sure, blame the ride and not the cotton candy, popcorn, two corndogs and the triple scoop ice cream you ate ALL before going on.”

“I figured my food had settled and I’d be fine.”

“It’s not a swimming pool Mands. You don’t wait 30 minutes before going in to avoid being sick.”

“How would you know, you don’t swim.”

“No, but I read.”

Mandy quirks her eyebrow.

“Fine, Ian reads, I listen.”

“Ey Ian, you home?” He calls out but no one answers.

He and Mandy got home a lot later than they had planned. Mickey figures Ian would have been back before them considering it’s dark out and the warehouse would’ve had the night shift workers clock in. He heads upstairs to check and see if Ian is in the shower. A quick sweep of the rest of the rooms show no sign of Ian. He walks back downstairs while checking his phone.

“Not here?”

“Huh?” Mickey looks up from his phone, surprised to see that he has no missed calls or text messages from Ian.

“Ah, no. Nothing.”

“I’m sure he’ll be here shortly. Could be an issue with the L.”

“Yeah, probably. You want some food?”

Mandy puts her fist to her mouth, swallowing down the queasy feeling she got from the mention of food. She shakes her head no, not trusting herself to open her mouth and have whatever was left in her stomach come back up for round three.

“Suit yourself. Just don’t puke on the couch or you owe Debbie 600 bucks.”

Mickey walks into the kitchen. He grabs a beer from the fridge and some pizza rolls from the freezer. He dials Ian's number and puts the phone to his ear as it starts to ring. Emptying the frozen food onto a tray, he puts it into the oven before it's even preheated.

_Hey, it’s Ian. Leave me a message or call Mick if you need me, I’m probably with him._

“Hey, just checking in. Figured you’d be home by now. Let me know if you are pulling a double, you know how that can mess with your sleep pattern so if you need anything, let me know. Anyway, call me back when you get the chance. Love ya.”

He hangs up and heads back into the living room while his food heats up. Mandy chucks on some movie, claiming it's her favourite so they have to watch it. Mickey didn’t argue, his mind is on his redheaded husband and not the screen in front of him.

The timer for his food goes off, bringing Mickey out of his thoughts. He walks to the kitchen, pulling the food out of the oven and grabbing another beer while he is there. Pretending like he wasn’t checking his phone every 5 minutes while on the couch, he dials Ian’s number again.

_Hey, it’s Ian. Leave me a message or call Mick if you need me, I’m probably with him._

“So, you’re not with me and I’m starting to freak out a little here man. I get how hard it is to check your phone at work, but just send me a text or something will ya. Call me back okay?”

He shakes his head, trying to calm down and stop himself from overreacting. Ian’s phone could be dead or there could be no service. He reminds himself that the warehouse has a fare few dead zones when it comes to cell service. It’s fine. Ian is fine. Mickey puts his food on his plate and heads back to the movie. When he sits, Mandy goes to grab a pizza roll from Mickeys plate. He slaps her hand away before she even touches one.

“What the fuck, sharing is caring Mick!”

“I asked if you wanted food and you said no. Go make your own fucking pizza rolls, these are mine.”

“You asked an hour ago and I said no. Now that nothing is in my stomach and I can smell how good they are, I want some.”

“You know where the kitchen is.” Mandy huffs in annoyance but decides to get up to make her own food, knowing it’s a losing battle. Twenty six years with Mickey, he has never once shared food, at least not with her.

Mickey side eyes Mandy. Once she is out of his view, he pulls his phone out again. Still nothing. Has it really been an hour since they got home and he first called Ian?

“Fuck it.” He mumbles

Mickey dials his boss. So what if he looks like an overbearing husband, he’s allowed to worry. He stands up and starts pacing the floor as it rings in his ear. Once it connects, Jackson doesn't even get a word in before Mickey is cutting him off.

“Jackson, hey. It’s Mickey. Just wondering if Ian is still working?”

“It’s a Sunday, you and Ian don’t work weekends.”

Mickey goes cold. He stops pacing.

“I know, but he got called in. Something about one of the guys calling in sick and needing the extra help.”

“Sorry man, can’t help you. Everyone showed up today. I never contacted Ian, none of the guys would have.”

“Ok, yeah, thanks.”

He pulls the phone away from his ear and looks at his phone screen. The photo of them on their wedding day is staring back at him. It was a photo Veronica had taken after they kissed, foreheads touching and the biggest smile on Ians face. The minute she showed him the photo, he asked if she could send it to him, straight away setting it as his background. He never wants to see that smile leave Ians face, he swore he’d do anything to make sure he was always as happy as he was in that moment.

“Hey, everything okay?”

Mandy pulls Mickey out of his thoughts. Is everything okay? Why would Ian lie to him?

“Ah, that was Jackson. Ian never made it into work.”

“What do you mean he never made it in?”

“He- he was never called in, no one was sick. He, he wasn’t there today.”

Mandy’s silence spoke volumes. A storm was building inside of Mickey and Mandy knew she had no words that would be enough to calm him down. What could she say?

_“I’m sure he is fine.”_

_“He probably has an explanation for lying.”_

Even saying them in her head, she knew none of them would be encouraging in a situation like this.

The sudden sound of Mickeys phone ringing felt like someone had pieced his eardrums. Only seconds before, the room was silent while he stood there, contemplating every scenario in his head. The vibration in his hand almost made him drop his phone to the floor. He looks down and notices Ian’s name flashing on the screen. His heart speeds up. The photo of his smiling redhead is looking back at him. Mickey remembers taking the photo. They were on their bed, messing around one night and he began to tickle Ian. The happiness on Ian’s face as he was holding back his laughter, eyes closed from the joy, it was a moment Mickey wanted to live in forever. Mickey snapped a photo with his spare hand, delighted that it was a moment shared between them, no one but himself was around to see Ian this carefree. Pulling himself out of the memory, cautious that if he doesn’t answer soon, his phone will send the call to voicemail. He breathes out to calm his voice, not wanting to jump to conclusions.

“Ian?”

Nothing.

Silence.

Mickey's heart rate begins to accelerate. He looks at Mandy, she can sense something is wrong.

“Ian, where are you? What’s going on?

“I warned you cock smoker. You marry a man and I was going to put a bullet through your fucking head. You obviously didn’t get the message, so maybe it’s time I make it a bit clearer.”

The fear and rage coursing through Mickey makes him shake. His right hand clenches into a fist by his side, ready to hit something.

“I swear to god, if you have hurt him in any way, no one will be able to identify your body when I’m done with you.”

“I’d be more worried about the way your precious Twink looks once I’m done with him.”

Mickey can’t hold it in anymore, he punches the wall and lets out a scream of frustration.

“What the fuck do you want? You want to kill me, hmmm, you want me to beg? Want me to rob a fucking bank or shoot a cop? What the fuck is it you want from me?!”

“I want you to see how unnatural it is to fuck a man. To marry one. To love one for fuck sake. I want you to watch as I destroy the only good thing in your life. Ruin him to the point of no return, not even the dogs will want him once I’m through with him.”

Mickey is seething with rage.

“Meet me at the warehouse you did your first drug deal in. I’m guessing I don't need to remind ya to come alone. Then again, I’m not sure if the aids have fried your fucking brain cells. At least what is left of em.”

“How do I know he's there? That’s he’s alive? Saying those words out loud sent chills down Mickeys spin.

Terry hangs up. The phone is still pressed against Mickeys ear when he hears the text alert go off. He pulls it away from his face and opens the message. Dropping his phone, he runs to the kitchen sink and vomits.

Tears fall from his eyes, the lack of oxygen to his lungs choking him. As the heaving stops, he tries to take in a breath but it’s cut off as more food and liquid is brought back up, leaving him more empty than he was already feeling. Mandy walks over to pick up the phone and checks the message. Her gasp could shatter glass.

The imagine is burned into his brain, never will he forgive himself for what Terry has done to him. The photo showed Ian tied to a chair, wearing nothing but Mickeys boxes that he put on this morning before they left. Cuts littered across his chest and thighs, blood dripping down his body from each open wound. Split lip and eyebrow, his cheek bone bruised and swollen, his left eye couldn't even open if he tried. 

“Mick?”

“This is my fault.”

“Stop!” Mandy's voice is stern but he can still hear the sadness in her tone.

“Ian needs you! He needs you to bring him home and help him heal from the damage our psychotic father did to him, not you.”

“None of this would have happened to him if it wasn’t for me.”

“You don’t think he knows that? You warned him over and over again and he still wanted to be with you. He was with you when Terry caught you both, witnessed what he is capable of and he still wanted to be by your side. He loves you and wants to be with you regardless of the fucked up family you come from.”

Still leaning over the sink, Mickey spits out the last remaining taste of vomit and rinses his mouth out with water. Without wasting another second, he heads up to their bedroom and grabs his gun from the bedside table. He puts it in the waist band of his pants, resting it against his back and pulls his top out to cover it. He opens the top draw in their dresser and pockets the brass knuckles just in case.

When he gets downstairs, Mandy is still looking at his phone. Not wanting to see the image again, he takes it from her hand, clicks out of the message and pockets his phone.

“I’m coming with you.”

“Like fuck you are.”

“He is my family too.”

“Yeah? How the fuck am I meant to help Ian and watch out for you.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Not happening.”

“Mick-”

“MANDY I SAID NO!”

He presses the palms of his hands to his eyes and lets out a breath.

“I need you to stay here and if I’m not back in the next hour, call the cops.”

“What? Mickey if you get caught with a firearm on parol-”

“I know!”

Mandy can see how much this is killing him. On the one hand, it’s his only option against Terry. He’d be a dead man the minute he arrives without any form of weapon to defend himself. But on the other hand, if he gets caught with a firearm while on parole, he’ll get sent back to prison.

“Mands, it’s Ian.”

“I know. Which is why you have one hour to get him back and get the hell out of there before the cops show up.”

Mickey gives her a nod and pulls her in for a quick hug. He lets go before she can reciprocate. If he held on for too long, he knew he would end up breaking down and he can’t do that right now, he won’t allow it. He sniffs and heads towards the back door to leave.

“Wait, what’s the address?”

Mickey pulls out a piece of paper from his pocket, making sure he wrote it down for her while he was upstairs. He places it on the table before heading back to the door. He didn’t want to risk Mandy forgetting, in stressful situations information can get jumble. If Mandy makes one mistake, even as small as getting the number wrong by one digit, he and Ian may not make it back home.

“Be careful.”

Mickey leaves without saying anything. He knew what she wanted to say, he wanted to say it too. It felt too permanent though, too much like a goodbye. So he said nothing while he promised himself he’d tell her he loved her when he got back.

Looking at his phone, he realises it’s already been thirty minutes since Terry hung up on him. Mickey knows from experience what Terry can do in thirty minutes. Hell, it only took one minute to beat him to the point of passing out all those years ago. He starts to run. He knows where he is going and it’s not far. It’s dark enough to not be seen, lessening the suspicion of why a man is running as though he is being chased by the cops. Thankfully it's also late enough for most people to already be home.

_I’m coming Ian._

_Just hold on._

_I’ll make this right._

_Everything will be okay._

_I’m sorry._

Mickey knows what he has to do. He has known for awhile. Killing Terry is his only option. This won’t end until he is dead. Terry won’t stop coming after them and Mickey is prepared to end him. Going back to jail doesn’t scare him. It should, but things are different now. He knows Ian will visit. He knows they will be okay, they will survive it this time, survive the distance and the separation. Ian will wait. Mickey won’t be alone. It will be okay. It has to be.

He slows down as he reaches the street the empty house resides on. It’s been abandoned for years. Junkies constantly coming and going, moving on when it gets raided and then coming back a month or so later when they know the coast is clear. It was the perfect meeting place to exchange just about anything, drugs, weapons, hookers. This is the place to go for any business deal that needed to happen away from prying eyes. It always amazed Mickey that deals never got interrupted by other people possibly wanting to use the location at the same time. It’s like it had some kind of schedule that low lives knew about, marking it off their calendars as not available.

Mickey pulls the gun out from his waist band and checks the chamber. It’s ready. He clicks the safety back on and puts it back. Pushing open the gate, he walks towards the door and doesn’t even hesitate to open it.

With no power, the house is dark, but he can still see clearly where he is going. A soft glow is illuminating a room to the back of the house and Mickey reminds himself to breathe. Deciding to act like he in unarmed and hope to get the opportunity to catch Terry by surprise, he leaves his gun in his waist band and walks towards the light. No sound is coming from the house. No voices whispering, no laboured breathing or screams, nothing. It’s not right.

He reaches the door. Its cracked open enough to see light but he can’t see anything inside the room. Not wanting to waste anymore time, remembering that he told Mandy one hour,he pushes the door open and walks in. Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw when his eyes scanned the room.

No longer in a chair, lying on the floor with his back towards the door, Mickey sees Ian passed out. The last piece of clothing that was on his body now removed. Completely naked, Mickey can see what Terry has done. Blood dripping down Ians thighs, a baseball bat lying to the side, its handle covered in blood. The back of Ians head has a gash from where he would have been hit to knock him unconscious. It's the only way Terry would have been able to get Ian here. Ians wrists are bloody and raw, signs of pulling at the rope to loosen it. His back displays more cuts that were unable to be seen in the photo.

Mickey wants to be sick. He wants to scream. He wants to slit Terry's throat. He wants to hold Ian in his arms while he tells him everything will okay. Softly whisper apologies in his ear, begging him for forgiveness for what has happened. But he doesn’t. Instead, he rushes over to Ian and kneels beside his head.

“Hey. Hey Ian. I’m here. I’m here okay. Everything is going to be alright. I’m going to get you out out of here.” Ian is still breathing, most likely passing out from the pain.

As he rolls Ian over, Mickey rests Ian's head on his knees for support. He can see the way Ians face has swollen, his chest looking more battered than the photo. A tear rolls down Mickeys face.

“Please, Ian. Wake up. I need to get you out of here.”

He leans down and rests his forehead against Ians.

“I’m so sorry this happened to you.” He can barley get the words out as his body threatens to break down right then and there.

“Well, well, well. Look at you two. Jesus Christ Mickey, could you be anymore of a faggot? Crying over Gallagher Queer over there.”

The tears stop instantly as he sees Terry walk into the room, repulsion and venom taking over his body. Mickey gently places Ians head back onto the floor and stands, bringing himself almost level to Terry.

“You feel better now? Feel like a fucking man for doing this?”

“He's ruined. So I figured he’s no use to you now.”

“You still don’t fucking get it do you? I’m gay! I married Ian because I love him, I always have. Nothing will ever change that. Nothing you do will stop me from loving him unless you put a fucking bullet through my chest.”

“That’s bullshit. You were never a fag until this one showed up claiming to be Mandys boyfriend. Suddenly you were into cock and going around being an aids monkey for this homo.”

“See that’s where you’re wrong. I knew since I was a kid that I was gay, back when I used to play little league. I came home one day and I was all excited and ma asked me why I was in such a good mood. You know what I told her? Hmm?” Mickey bits his lip and raises his eyebrows. He's baiting him, wanting to get him angry because when Terry is anger, he becomes reckless. He makes mistakes.

“I said ma, that boy with the red hair on my team, I’m going to marry him one day.”

Mickey saw the twitch in Terrys eyes.

“But Ma knew. She warned me. She said, Mikhalio, as long as your father is around, he will never let you do such a thing. He will tell you its wrong and try and change who you are. She made me promise her that I wouldn’t allow you to do that. She wanted me to be myself, just not around you.”

Terry had heard enough. He pulls his gun out and releases the safety as he aims it at Mickey’s head.

“You’re fucking lying. She’d never-”

“She’d never what? Want her son to be happy? To be loved? To be safe? All those things we never got from you, I never got from you. So yeah, you can blame Ian all you want but I’m a hundred percent gay. Always have been, always will be.”

Footsteps are heard in the far distance. It’s enough to distract Terry only for a second, but that’s all Mickey needs to make his move. He closes the gap between himself and Terry, the room small enough that it only takes a few steps. He reaches Terry in time for him to knock the gun out of his hand. Mickey may be quicker, but Terry is stronger. He uses his left hand to grip the front on Mickeys shirt, holding him in place while his right hand lands a fist to his cheek. It knocks Mickey back but he is still conscious. Terry goes to swing again. This time Mickey blocks the punch, he pulls his knee up and aims it at Terrys groin. It’s enough for the grip on Mickey’s top to loosen. Mickey tries to reach for the gun in the back of his pants but Terry lunges at him, pushing him to the ground. The gun slips from Mickeys hand and lands near Ians body.

Terry straddles Mickey and starts laying into him, punch after punch. Mickey is able to block some but they are coming in quicker than he can react.

“Because of you I’m ruined.” Terry throws a punch to Mickeys left eye.

“I’m the joke of Southside because I have a faggot for a son.”

Another punch is thrown. The force strong enough to knock Mickey around, no longer able to block Terry's punches. Terry notices Mickey's struggling with his energy. He gives up on gripping his shirt, using both hands to throw punch after punch to his face. Terry gets bored of hitting him so he wraps his hands around Mickeys throat.

“I told you! You suck a dick, you die!”

Mickeys hands are clawing at Terry's. Hoping whatever strength he has left is enough to pull Terry's hands away to allow oxygen into his lungs. Mickey’s legs are kicking out, hoping the movement can throw Terry off his body. But it's no use. Struggling to breathe, Mickey is getting weaker and weaker. This is it. Terry finally wins. He is going to die by the hands of his own father all because of who he loves.

His eyes are starting to close from the lack of oxygen. No longer able to hold them open, his legs no longer thrashing and is hands losing the strength to try and pull Terry’s away. He thinks of Ian. One last time. His smile. His laugh. It’s all he wants to see before he dies.

Then he hears it.

The sound of a gun shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for this chapter.
> 
> Terry captures and tortures Ian. Ian has cuts all across his body, lots of blood and a swollen face. I wrote how Ian looks, describing his wounds but not the process of how he got them. There is also reference to Ian being raped with an inanimate object. 
> 
> Sorry for the heavy chapter. I asked myself what is the furtherest Terry would go if given the chance to destroy Mickey and Ian's lives without actually killing one of them and this is what I imagined him doing. 
> 
> If you are still with me, appreciate any and all comments.


	4. Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey had hoped Terry's death would mean the end, but they still had a rough road ahead of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check for updated tags,
> 
> Italics are a memory from the past.
> 
> The Russian in this chapter means: "He wasn't perfect, but he gave me you"

Mickey wipes his hands on his pants, dusting off the dirt residue left from the shovel handle. He hears his phone go off again and decides to look at the unanswered messages.

 **Ian (7.52am) :** I love you

 **Ian (8.24am):** Are you okay?

 **Ian (8.49am):** Do you need me there?

 **Ian (9.13am):** I’m here

Mickey looks up and sees Ian leaning against Debbie’s car. As soon as they lock eyes, Ian walks over to him. He couldn’t love Ian any more than he does at this moment. Mickey needed to do this for himself but also wanted to shield Ian from all things Terry Milkovich. It wasn’t because he thought he needed to be coddled or that he would break at the sight of Terry’s name. Ian is honestly one of the strongest people Mickey knows. Stronger than himself. Ian being here right now proves that. After everything Terry did to him, here he is. Ian knows Mickey needs him right now to help him and give him the strength to get through this.

The minute Ian is close enough to touch him, Mickey wraps his arms around Ian and clings to him like a lifeline. It’s over. Every-single-fucking-thing Terry did, it’s now just a memory they have to deal with, move on from.

Ian can feel Mickey shaking in his arms, the adrenaline finally leaving his body, causing him to feel tired and drained. Mickey pulls back first, looking up into Ian's eyes and seeing the love in them staring back at him.

“You didn’t have to come.”

“I wanted to.”

Keeping Mickey in his arms, he turns around and looks at what is left of Terry's tombstone.

“If you ask me, I’d say that’s an improvement”

“I figured it was more fitting. Suits the person who is actually buried 6 feet under.”

“Are you okay?”

Mickey felt like he should be asking Ian that.

“I will be. I don’t know, it’s not like saying any of this changes anything. Even if he was alive he would have turned it around somehow to make me feel like it was my fault. I guess this was just a chance for me to let it go, move on.

Ian kisses the top of Mickey's temple. He gets it. Everything that has happened to Mickey, Mandy, himself. Terry never would have listened. Never would have cared. Never would have apologised. But Mickey needed closure, so here he is.

“Come on, we have to go meet Mandy.”

They go to leave, Mickey’s hand sliding into Ians. He needs the contact, the touch, he doesn’t give a fuck who sees. Ian is his husband and he is proud of it.

“Hello, Mikhailo.”

Ian and Mickey freeze in their tracks. That voice sends them back five years, neither of them knowing what to do. Ian turns around first, aware that after the month they have had, this is the last thing either of them need. Knowing he can’t hide, Mickey slowly turns to face Svetlana. She is standing on the other side of Terry’s grave, a few meters away with a young boy standing beside her. Yevgeny.

“What are you doing here Svet?” Ian asks the question. He knows Mickey is in shock and he doesn’t blame him. Last either of them heard, Svetlana married some rich grandpa that was ready to croak.

“Yevgeny want to say goodbye to his dad.”

“Say Goodbye? Bitch you were the one that stopped visiting me in Prison when I stopped doing your Russian dirty work. I’d say you’re a few years too late for a Goodbye.”

“Not you. His biological father.”

“What the fuck!?”

Ian watches the way Svetlana reaches for Yevgeny’s hand, pulling him closer to her side. She hands him a rose that he didn’t even notice was in her hand and he bends down to place it on the freshly dug up dirt.

“On ne byl ideal'nym, no on dal mne vy"

“What the fuck is going on Svet?” Mickey’s eyebrows shoot up. He was tired of secrets. It’s why he came here, why he shared them with Mandy. It was like everyone wanted to confess their sins and no longer have the truth hanging over their heads.

“Yevgeny is Terrys.” Svetlana looked at both Ian and Mickey, acting as though the news is no big deal.

“You said-” Mickey was going to be sick.

“When I tell Terry, he said to lie and say baby is yours. He promise marriage and a place to live. I figure why not.”

“Why not? Do you have any idea what you put _me_ through, put _us_ through?”

Mickey had never hit a woman before, but he was willing to make an exception.

“I lost Ian because of you, because of what I was _forced_ to do.”

“That was carrot boys choice, not on me.”

Mickey took a step forward. Ian stopped him from getting too close in case Mickey did decide to lash out.

“You threatened to go to Terry when I wouldn’t help out.” Mickey pointed a finger at her, wishing it was a gun. He'd never shoot, he wouldn't risk going back to prison for her. But the image felt satisfying.

“Terry was in prison. I need help with baby, I need to keep you round, till Terry got out.”

“Why didn’t you tell us? You knew how much we hated Terry. We would have helped if you had told us the truth.” With Mickey fuming beside Ian, he had to play the calm one, even though he was just as furious as Mick.

“Help? Please, you two were pissy little children. Terry was man. I need to think of me and baby, not you two wanting play house.”

“A man? He was an abusive asshole that raped his daughter and forced rape on his son.”

“Hmm, I’ve seen worse.”

“Fuck you. I couldn’t stand being around you. Just looking at you made me sick. After what you did, what I had to-.”

Mickey thumbs at his nose. Anger was rising inside him again but the cemetery was busy. He couldn’t risk causing a scene. He lowers his voice.

“When you forced me to finally take care of Yev, when Ian was changing diapers, call it whatever the fuck you want, but we were learning to live with the fucked up situation we were trapped in.’

Svetlana smiles and shrugs her shoulders. Not caring.

Mickey walks up to Svetlana, barely leaving enough space between them as he looks into her eyes.

“You need to leave, now. I never want to see or hear from you ever again. I will never help you, there is no connection or relation between us. Terry is dead and for all I care, so are you and the kid.”

“You didn’t scare me then, you don’t scare me now.”

He slowly backs up, not breaking eye contact, but she can see how cold his eyes are. A treat from a Milkovich should never be taken lightly.

“Come Yevgeny. We must go.”

She takes her son's hand and turns around to leave in the opposite direction.

“Holy fuck.” Ian lets out a breath. The realisation of the situation finally hits him.

“Come on, I don’t want to miss Mandy.”

Mickey storms past Ian, already ahead of him as he rushess towards the car.

***

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

Thankfully Mandy wasn’t very far away from the cemetery so they weren’t too late. They both still felt guilty for leaving her waiting but they knew time was limited and there was nothing worse than thinking someone wasn’t going to show up.

“I will”

Ian takes his eyes off the road for a second to turn to Mickey.

“Talk about it. I will, just, not yet.”

“When you’re ready Mick, I’ll be here.”

Ian takes one hand off the steering wheel. He reaches for Mickey’s left hand and holds it in his husband's laps. His thumb rubbing at Mickey's wedding band.

Ian parks the car. Noticing the time, he’s thankful they’re only five minutes late. All Ian wants to do is pull Mickey into his arms and hold him. He wants to let him know he is here to talk, to listen. He can’t even imagine what is going through Mickey's head right now. When Mandy told him all those years ago that Mickey got some whore pregnant and was getting married, it felt like his world was crashing around him. He never took into account how Mickey would have been feeling. He lived a lie to survive Terry and was about to be trapped into another one. Mickey was about to become a father to a child that was conceived from a rape, a day that destroyed everything he and Mickey had been building together.

IIan looks towards his husband. Mickey’s eyes are on the ground as he exits the car. Ian knows now. He isn’t going to push Mickey to talk. He’ll wait for Mickey to come to him when he is ready to open up, because the difference between then and now, is that Mickey _will_ come to Ian. Ian just has to wait. It might not happen straight away, but Mickey has learned to talk to him about his thoughts. His feelings. If they have learned anything from prison and the courtroom situation, it’s that using their words with each is the most important thing.

They walk into the room and lock eyes with Mandy sitting at the table. Mickey was hoping he’d never have to step foot in another prison ever again, especially when the jumpsuit is on his little sister.

Mandy stands up. A smile spreads across her face, relief in her eyes at seeing her brother and best friend walk towards her. Mickey goes for a hug first, only quick, not wanting to get Mandy into any trouble. He sits while Ian does the same.

“Sorry we’re late. Fucking Svet showed up.”

Mandy looks just as shocked and surprised as they did.

“Svetlana? What the fuck is she doing back in the Southside.”

“Yevgeny wanted to say goodbye.”

“To you?”

“To Terry.”

“Why the fuck would he want to do that. The kid didn’t even know him.”

“Apparently Terry is Yev’s father.” When Mickey said it out loud, he still couldn’t believe it. How his life could have been different, _would_ have been different if he had just known how much of a sneaky bastard his father really was.

“Holy shit!”

“I know.” Mickey didn’t want to use all his time with Mandy talking about something he hadn’t yet processed himself. He quickly changes the subject.

“Anyway, how are ya goin’ in here? You okay, you safe?”

“Yeah Mick, it’s low security.”

“Prison is still prison Mands.”

“Hey, it’s temporary. My lawyer said by the time I go to court, my time spent here will be sufficient enough and then I’ll just be on parol like you two losers.”

“That’s not funny Mandy” Ian could see on Mandy’s face that she needed to make light of the situation, it was the only thing holding her together, helping her push through.

“Look, if Terry was attacking me, it would have been as simple as explaining it as self-defense. But since he was harming you, a little time was expected.”

Mandy can still recall how easily she pulled the trigger. She didn’t even hesitate. The minute she walked into the room and saw Ian's body broken and bloodied on the floor, Terry strangling Mickey to the point of him no longer being able to fight back, she picked up the gun, aimed it at Terry's chest, and shot him. She didn’t blink. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t care. The bastard got an easy death, but at least he was dead.

Mickey looks at his hands. They’re red from the way he was rubbing at them to calm his nerves. His wedding band has been spun around on his finger enough times to leave friction burn on his skin.

“Why’d you do it Mands?” Mickey's voice is low. He knows it’s never safe to discuss the crime in prison. If anyone heard and learned something that could change their own sentence, then they’d happily snitch.

Mandy takes Mickey's hand, ignoring all rules regarding contact.

“Because Mickey, you have been taking care of me your whole life.” A tear runs down Mandy's face, but she is still smiling.

“It’s my turn to take care of you.”

Mickey looks down at their hands. He can't speak. Tears threatening to take over his voice. Instead, he nods his head, letting her know he understands.

“Go be happy with your husband. Go be free. Get a house. Start a family. Terry isn’t hanging over your head anymore. You suffered the most out of all us because of Terry. You took beatings to protect me and after what you told me, just, let me do this for you Mick, please. Let me make something right.”

Mickey stands up so he can hug Mandy again. Words were not enough to say how thankful he was for what she did. He would have died that night, he knows that, but taking someone's life does something to a person. Mandy could have shot Terry's leg, shoulder, fuck anywhere that would have shocked him enough to stop what he was doing. But she went for the heart - surprised that he actually had one - but thankful enough that he did because one bullet was all it took to end his life and save his and Ian’s.

Mickey pulls away, tear stains on his face, but he doesn’t give a fuck.

“We put money in your commissary account and your phone account. Call us if you need anything. We don’t care about the money, use it all in a day if you have to, we’ll top it up again.”

The buzzer goes off, indicating that everyone has to start saying goodbye. Mickey doesn’t want to leave his sister but he has no other choice. Ian stands up, gently tapping Mickey's shoulder to do the same.

“We’ll see you again next week and the week after that and every week until the hearing.”

“I know.”

Ian gives her a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. Mickey pulls her in and wraps her in his arms, not wanting to let her go. Mandy pulls away first this time. She needed to be the strong one in this situation. Ian and Mickey stand there, watching her walk back inside with the other inmates, not wanting to leave until she is no longer in their sights.

“She’ll be okay Mick. She’s strong.”

“She’s a Milkovich. I just always hoped she’d be the only one of us that was never going to be in a situation like this.”

Ian wraps his arm around Mickey's shoulder and turns him towards the exit.

“Lets go home Mick.”

***

**1 week earlier**

Mickey’s in the kitchen making Ian something to eat. He has soup warming on the stove along with some garlic bread in the oven. Food is not an easy task. Solids are difficult to chew due to the bruises on Ian’s jaw and his ribs cause pain when he swallows. Unfortunately, he needs more than a liquid meal for his meds, otherwise, they make him nauseous, only for Ian to vomit them back up. While Mickey was stirring the soup, making sure it didn’t bubble over, Lip walks in the back door with a sleeping Freddie in the carrier.

“Hey man.”

“Hey”

Mickey knows none of the Gallaghers blame him for what happened to Ian. Whenever he would struggle to look them in the eye or when he would curl in on himself from the shame of letting this happen to Ian, they would always remind him that this was all on Terry. That doesn’t mean he believed them.

Lip takes a seat at the table, making sure to carefully sit down so Freddie doesn’t wake.

“How’s he going?” Mickey keeps his head down, his eyes on the soup. He still feels ashamed when they asked about Ian, it’s why he couldn’t look towards Lip as he answers.

“Better than yesterday.” It’s the same answer Mickey gives to anyone who asks. It’s all he can say. Takes time for the body to heal, even longer for the mind. Something he is familiar with.

“Is he- Does he seem-”

Mickey looks towards Lip, curious where his question is leading.

“Is he acting-”

“For fuck sake Lip spit it out?”

“Is he stable?”

“You mean is he depressed?”

“Bipolar episodes can come from stress and triggers. I’d say what happened to him is a high fucking level of both.”

Mickey takes the pot off the stove and slams it on the counter harder than he had intended.

“You think I don’t fucking know that? “ He bits his lip and his eyebrows rise, begging Lip to continue so he can bit his head off.

“You don’t think I feel guilty enough already? That I don’t feel responsible for what my piece of shit father did to him, to _my_ husband!”

“Mickey it wasn’t-”

Mickey thumbs at his bottom lip.

“Yeah yeah, it wasn’t my fault. You and everyone else has already said that. But you know what is my fault? It’s my fault Ian's involved in my fucked up life. It’s my fault Terry went after Ian. It’s my fault that I have to watch for any sign of an episode because the trauma my husband has suffered could cause him to go into a depressive spiral, even with the medication I’m making sure he takes every day. It can still happen and if it does, that's on me.”

Mickey's chest hurts. He doesn’t want to work himself up into a panic because he needs to be strong for Ian. He doesn't have time to spiral. The ache in his heart and the pull in his lungs from not breathing between sentences doesn’t help, but the thought of his husband, upstairs, healing, needing him, helps calm him down.

“So yeah. He seems stable because I’m doing every fucking thing I can to make sure he is. And the minute, _the minute_ I see any signs, I’ll take him to see his doctor, just to be sure.”

Mickey clenches the countertop, his knuckles turning white, head bowing down.

“I know. I remember everything you did for him when he was diagnosed. If anything ever happened again, I trust you to take care of him.”

Mickey shakes his head at Lip's honesty.

"You know what else is my fault?"

Lip doesn't answer, he just waits.

"Every episode Ian has ever had is because of me."

"What?"

"The stress of me marrying Svetlana caused his first mental psychosis. His second one was because I didn't force him to get help, to see someone who could prescribe him medication. The third, was because I left him to run to Mexico. If I was here, I would have seen the signs, I could have helped before it got to the point where he ended up doing time in prison."

"Jesus christ Mickey, you can't blame yourself for all the crazy shit you two have been through. Terry forced you to marry Svetlana, otherwise, you would probably be dead if you had said no. I get not wanting to send Ian away, honestly, the thought of it scared me too back then."

Mickey looks up, surprised to hear Lip say that considering how much he pestered Mickey at the time about getting Ian the help he needed.

"And Mexico, the van. That was just as much Ian's decision as it was yours."

Mickey nods, pushing himself off the bench so he can continue making Ian's lunch.

Lip understood that Mickey wanted to drop the subject.

“Well, you know if you need to go back to work or something, we can help out. Keep an eye on him.”

Mickey is shaking his head no before Lip has even finished the sentence.

“Boss says it’s covered under sick leave or some shit like that. Even though I’m not the one sick, I’m caring for my husband who is so, perks of being married I guess.”

“Okay well if _you_ need a break, again, we’re here.”

Even if he did, no way was Mickey letting Ian out of his sight. He puts the soup in a bowl, takes the garlic bread from the oven, and places some Gatorade on a tray to take upstairs.

“Yeah, thanks. I’ll let you know.”

Lip knows he won’t, but the offers on the table.

Mickey reaches their bedroom door and gently pushes it open. He is happy to see Ian’s still asleep, using the giant teddy Mickey won at Navy Pier like a body pillow, helping relieve some pressure on his body. Sleeping was good, it means Ian is healing, at least according to the doctors. He doesn’t want to wake him, he’ll reheat the food if he has to but the more Ian rests, the better his husband will feel.

He sits on the chair at the end of the bed. He found that getting up and down from the bed ended up disturbing Ian too much with the movement of the mattress constantly dipping. He decided a chair would be better. With the food sitting on the dresser he sits back and watches Ian's chest slowly rise and fall.

The bruises are now a yellowy-green colour, a sign that they are close to being fully healed. Stitches holding together the gash on Ian's eyebrow and a few on his chest, but most are able to heal naturally. Leaning forward, Mickey rests his elbows on his knees and holds his head in his hands. The list of injuries running through his head like a grocery list that he has memorised. Even if he tried, it will be hard to forget.

_The ambulance takes them to the closest hospital but they're separated the minute they arrive. While Mickey is getting checked over, all he keeps thinking about is Ian._

_“Sir, does it hurt to talk?”_

_“Hmm?”_

_Mickey zones out as the doctor is checking his neck, making sure Terry hasn’t crushed his windpipes or vocal cords while he was being strangled._

_“Yea-”_

_Mickey coughs. It’s the first time he has said anything since arriving._

_“Yeah, it’s fine. I’m fine.”_

_“No pain or discomfort?”_

_That's a stupid question. The finger bruises on his neck, the black eye, and the split cheek are enough to show he is in some pain._

_“When you talk.” The doctor adds when he notices the look Mickey gives him._

_“No, it’s fine.”_

_He asks a nurse to clean the cuts on Mickey’s face and place a butterfly closure strip on his cuts. Mickey doesn’t want to think about how expensive the bill is going to be since they’ve both been admitted. Especially knowing he could have done all of this himself. He can’t even let himself think of Ian being the one to tend to his wounds right now. Ian’s wounds needed tending to. It would break him if he let himself think of how Terry has hurt Ian. He can't break down. Not yet._

_Police arrived shortly after, asking for Mickey's statement. Mandy did what Mickey asked and called the cops, but wanting to warn Mickey so he didn’t get caught with a weapon, she went to the address herself. Cursing his sister who was now being held in custody, he relays to the police what happened that day. The text message Ian received, the call to his boss Jackson, the phone call from Terry. The picture Terry sent was proof enough without them needing to check the rest. They took his statement and informed Mickey that they would be back to get one from Ian._

_He was then sent off to a waiting room. He was sick of waiting. His whole life has been about waiting. Waiting to be with Ian. Waiting to be free. Waiting for Ian to come back to him. Waiting to get back to Ian. Waiting to get out of prison. Waiting to be married. Waiting, waiting, waiting._

“ _Ian Gallagher?”_

_“Yeah, yes. How is he?”_

_“And you are?”_

_“His husband.”_

_The doctor nods in approval, only wanting to disclose Ian's condition to his immediate family._

_“He has a small concussion most like from the blow he took to the head. It’s safe to say we can rule out any brain damage or memory loss from the force of the impact, but he has lost a lot of blood, not just from the skull but from the multiple cuts on his body.”_

_Mickey crosses one arm around his body while he brings the other to his mouth. His hand making a fist as he rests it against his lips in the hopes that it will stop him from screaming and lashing out._

_“We have him on antibiotics. Help to fight off any infections caused by the wounds being left open for so long. We have also taken a blood sample.”_

_“Blood sample? What for?_

_“HIV, Aids. It’s just a precaution. Not knowing if the weapons used on Mr. Gallagher were clean, it’s standard procedure so we can rule everything out.”_

_Mickey felt sick. Terry always called Mickey an aids monkey. He wouldn’t put it past him to actually go to such lengths as to infect Ian by using bloody weapons._

_“A rape kit was also conducted. There were no signs of semen or severe damage. The blood was most likely due to the speed and force in which the object was used.”_

_If Terry wasn’t already dead, Mickey would have gone to finish the job off._

_“He has a bruised jaw and ribs caused by excessively being hit, but with enough rest, I don’t see why Mr. Gallagher wouldn't make a full recovery.”_

_“How long does he have to stay here?”_

_“As soon as we get the blood results, if they come back clear, then we can discharge him tomorrow. I’m sure he will heal faster being in the comforts of his own bed at home.”_

_Mickey nods along, taking in everything the doctor has told him._

_“Is there any medications Mr. Gallagher is taking that we need to be aware of?”_

_“Yes, he’s Bipolar. He’s currently on a Duloxetine, Aripiprazole, Lamictal, and some B vitamins”_

_Mickey decided a long time ago to learn all of Ian’s medication in case he ever needed a refill or, God forbid Mickey needed to let the doctor know what he was on. He hoped there would never be a situation where he actually needed to use that information though._

_The doctor writes everything down._

_“Does he have a therapist or a doctor we can contact to confirm the quantities with?”_

_“Yeah, um, ah-”_

_Mickey was drawing a blank. Everything that has happened in the last twenty-four hours was catching up to him. His body and mind threatening to shut down so he too could recharge._

_“It’s fine. We can get that information from you later.”_

_“Can I see him?”_

_“Of course. Be aware, right now the painkillers are helping him sleep. They may also make him sleep longer than usual.”_

_Mickey was glad the doctor added that last bit of information. Obviously, after Mickey mentioned Ian’s Bipolar, the doctor was aware that sleeping for long periods of time would be a cause for alarm for a person with this mental disorder._

_The Doctor leads Mickey to Ian’s room but doesn’t enter. He simply stops at the closed door and allows Mickey to walk in on his own. The minute he walks through, his heart sinks at the sight of Ian. The only time Mickey has seen Ian like this was after- no. He doesn’t want to think of that day or any other day that involves Terry trying to ruin either one of them._

_He looks peaceful, which is saying something considering the trauma Ian has suffered. Now that the blood is washed from his body, Mickey can see the full extent of his cuts and bruises. He walks over to the bed, kicks his shoes off, and crawls in beside Ian. He moves Ian's head just enough so it's resting on Mickey's chest. He runs his hand through Ian's wavy red hair while the other wraps around Ians back, pulling him closer towards him. Cautious of Ian's injuries, he doesn’t want to maneuver him around and risk him waking in pain._

_Mickey bends his head down and places a trail of kisses on his husband's forehead, repeating the same thoughts through his head like a mantra:_

_I’m sorry._

_I love you._

_Please be okay._

_Please forgive me._

_I’ll never let anyone hurt you ever again._

“Why are you all the way over there in that chair, when there is a perfectly good bed right here for you to sit on?” 

The sound of Ian's voice makes Mickey look towards the bed. He goes to answer, but Ian cuts him off before he can get a word out.

“And not only is this bed more comfortable, but it is warm and has your husband waiting in it.”

Mickey can’t help but smile at the way Ian is trying to sound all cute and adorable. Instead of walking over to the bed, Mickey heads towards the dresser to get Ians food and medication.

“It should still be warm. You know I have a habit of overheating food.” Mickey places the tray on Ian's lap and goes back to his chair.

“Mick.” The look of sadness on Ian's face is enough to break Mickey.

Ian knew what Mickey is doing, he is retreating. Blaming himself for what Terry did and distancing himself from Ian as punishment. All Mickey is really doing though is punishing Ian. Ian needs the comfort of his husband. He wants to have him close, his scent soothing him, his touch making him feel whole again. Mickey gave Ian some bullshit excuse about not wanting to hurt him, keeping away so he could rest and heal peacefully. If Ian had the strength, he’d throw the chair out of the room and demand he comes back to bed with him.

Mickey needs the distance for what he is about to say. Being close to Ian right now will make him back down and that would be selfish of him. He needs to say this to Ian, let him know, give him the choice. He keeps his head down, taking the cowards way out, knowing that if he looked into Ian's beautiful green eyes, it would only make this harder.

“If-”

Mickey breathes out to stop the words from shaking.

“If you want to leave me, I won’t stop you, I won't' fight or argue. I’ll- I'd understand.”

“WHAT?!” Ian wishes it was easier for him to get out of bed so he could storm over to his husband and get him to look him in the eyes.

“Why the fuck would I want to leave you?”

“Because, because look at you Ian. This happened because of me. Because you married me and got stuck with my fucked up family.”

The room is so silent Ian can hear himself swallow.

“Do you want to leave me?” Ian’s voice is so soft, but it reaches Mickey's ears.

Mickey finally looks up and locks eyes with his husband. 

“Is what Terry said true? Am I, am I ruined now?” Ian hates how his voice breaks. He never once doubted that Mickey wouldn’t love him after what Terry did. They have been through so much together, their love only coming out stronger.

Mickey couldn’t hate himself more than he did at that moment. Of course that’s what Ian would think. Here he is offering Ian an out, a way to separate himself from the fucked up Milkovich family, but Ian sees it as Mickey not wanting him anymore. He rises from the chair and walks over to the empty side of the bed, _his_ side of the bed. He crawls across the mattress till he reaches Ian.

He gently cups Ian's face, wary of where he places his hands, not wanting to put too much pressure on Ian's bruises. He can feel Ian's resistance as he tries to turn his face towards him. Ian trying to pull away, not wanting to lock eyes with Mickey.

“Ian, hey, look at me.” Mickey doesn’t want to force it.

“Please look at me.” He is begging. The words barely a whisper as they leave his mouth.

“Nothing will ever make me not want to be with you. I will _always_ love you. I will _always_ need you. I will _always_ want you.”

A single tear falls down Ian's cheek. He still can’t bring himself to look up at Mickey. He gently pulls Ian's head towards his, their foreheads resting against one another.

“You’re under my skin man, remember? Doesn’t matter how many times I tried to walk away, I couldn’t. I didn’t want to. I married you so that _you_ were stuck with _me_.”

Ian lets out a small chuckle and the sound has never felt so good. The relief it brings to Mickey, to hear the joy in Ian's voice again, it eases his heart and mind.

“I just hate that this happened to you. I’m trying to help. I’m trying to understand what it is I can do to make things right, to make it better. So I thought-”

“You thought wrong Mick. All I need is you. You know I can’t survive without you. I tried walking away to remember, it almost destroyed me. So don’t ever think that I want to leave you.”

Ian turns slightly towards Mickey, aware of his injuries, but needing to touch his husband. He too places his hands on either side of Mickey's face, his thumb softly rubbing against his cheek.

“The shitty Milkovich family is what I signed up for. Besides, Terry is dead. He's gone, Mickey. We don’t have to worry about him or anyone else ever again.”

Mickey nods against Ian's forehead.

“And I mean, technically, you’re a Gallagher now, not a Milkovich.”

They both chuckle.

“I knew I never should have agreed to take your last name.”

“Yeah but it’s just further proof that you’re mine.”

Ian starts to slowly kiss along Mickey's jaw, down his neck, feeling the smile that is evident on Mickey's face.

“Plus, changing the tattoo on your chest from Gallagher to Milkovich would have been too difficult.”

“At least it would have been spelled right.”

They both end up laughing and they know it’s okay. They can laugh. It doesn’t mean they forget or they are healed. It just means they are slowly moving forward, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost at the end, only one chapter left. I hope you are enjoying this journey. Thank you for taking it with me.
> 
> Don't worry, I promise to give you Mickey's thoughts on the Svetlana and Yevgeny situation in the next chapter. Personally I never believed Yev was Mickey's son so my plan was always to write my theory into this fic.
> 
> All comments are appreciated. HUGE Thank you to Emily for helping me unjumble my awkward paragraphs.
> 
> If you wish to follow me on my socials  
> Instagram @gallavich.geek  
> Twitter @ halewolf24


	5. Moving Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian and Mickey find a way to move forward after Terry's death and start the next chapter of their lives together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please check for updated tags.
> 
> Italics are a past memory. 
> 
> TW - This chapter has graphic detail of the torture Terry put Ian through. If you would like to skip it, scroll past the italic section.

**4 weeks since Terrys death**

“What about this one?”

“It’s sitting on top of an Indian restaurant.”

“So?”

“So you want our furniture to smell like curry? Those spies travel man.”

“Fine. Oh, how bout this one?”

“Too far from work.”

Ian rolls his eyes. Every single listing he shows Mickey, he seems to find something wrong with it. Too small. Not enough light. Shitty neighborhood. Then again, anywhere in the Southside is technically classed as a shitty neighbourhood, so he isn’t sure how Mickey can play that card, but he lets it go.

Mickey checks his phone for the tenth time in the last fifteen minutes.

“Okay, what is going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit. We can’t agree on an apartment. Anything I pick out you don’t even want to look at before shutting it down. You’re acting all shady and you keep checking your phone for something.”

“What? I’m checking the time.”

“Sure. Because so much time has passed since the last time you checked it thirty seconds ago.”

Mickey tries to find a way to deflect Ian, thankful that his phone dings, alerting him to a new text message. He snaps his phone up before Ian can look over and see who it’s from.

“Seriously Mickey?”

“It’s just Mandys lawyer.”

“Oh, everything okay?”

“Yeah, she gets released tomorrow at noon. She just wanted to let us know the time so we can be there to pick her up.”

“I still can’t believe she had to do a month in prison. If it wasn’t for Mandy showing up Terry would have-”

Ian stops himself. Thinking about the possibility of waking up on that cold dirty floor, bloodied and in pain, only to learn that his husband has been killed. He didn’t even want to consider that as a situation he could have been left with.

“What can I say, the justice system is corrupt.” Mickey can see that Ian is getting lost in his head. Every day he made sure Ian stuck with his medication routine and kept his mind active. Ian is strong. But he can get lost in the past. Replay things over and over in his mind, wondering what he could have done differently, what could have happened. Mickey made sure Ian stayed in the present. Looked towards the future. Their future. Safe and together.He hopes his comment is enough to bring Ian back to their conversation about Mandy, change the subject, and help put what happened behind them. 

“Let's go grab a beer.”

“We have beer here.”

“Well, maybe I want to get out of this fucking house since we’ve been cooped up in it for the last few weeks.”

Ian can’t be bothered arguing, not that they actually would argue. It just seems out of character for Mickey to actively volunteer to go to a bar, where he'll no doubt be stuck making small talk and have to pay more for a beer than if he had just brought it from the liquor store and drank at home.

“Fine. Do you want your coat?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Ian takes the stairs two at a time. As he heads into their room to grab their jackets, he takes a quick glance in the mirror giving himself a once over before walking out. The stitches are out, his bruises fully healed, and the cuts are barely a scab now. He feels like himself again. The road to recovery hasn’t been an easy one but he’s thankful that Mickey has been by his side every step of the way. Sometimes though, he’d forget about his injuries he couldn’t see and suddenly move too quickly. The pull of his ribs leaving him breathless with a sharp pain shooting up his side, struggling to breathe air into his lungs as it pulled.

Ian was used to external injuries. He is a Gallagher who grew up in the Southside. Cuts and bruises were unfortunately a normality for him. It was his internal injury, the one that he couldn’t see, couldn’t feel, that was the one that took him longer to heal from. Every time he closed his eyes, it was there.

_The bag gets ripped off his head causing him to hiss in pain. The blood from his head wound has caused the bag to stick to his hair, pulling at it as it’s yanked off. The pain from his hair getting pulled like this feels nothing like when Mickey does it during sex. That pain he enjoys, this makes him cringe. The room is dimly lit, but the sudden light makes his eyes sting as they adjust from being in the darkness for so long. Ian looks around, noticing the room is bare. Besides the chair he is strapped into and himself, he sees nothing else. Then he sees him, Terry fucking Milkovich._

_It dawns on Ian that Terry had this all planned out. The message asking him to come into work easily could have been sent from any phone. He wanted to get Ian on his own, away from Mickey and work colleagues._

_“Well, well, well. Nice to see you have woken from your beauty sleep faggot.”_

_“You know, for someone that likes to fucks guys when he’s in prison, that word is really starting to lose its meaning on me.”_

_That got him the first punch to his face. It had been a while since Ian has been hit and he doesn’t miss it. The sharp pain to his jaw ricochets up, causing a ringing in his inner ear._

_“You got some mouth on you don’t ya.”_

_“Your son seems to like it.”_

_Another hit. This time to his left cheek. He feels it split the second Terry's fist connects with his face._

_“Watch it, you pole smoker.”_

_“Or what? Hmmm? You’ve got me here Terry, so what are you going to do? Kill me? This whole cat and mouse game is getting really fucking old.”_

_“Oh, killing you will be too easy. No, what I got planned will be a lot more fun for me.”_

_Terry pulls brass knuckles from his pocket and slides his fingers into the rings. Ian realises that sometimes he needs to know when to shut up. Terry rips Ian’s shirt off, throwing it to the side of the room, the sudden cool air causing him to shiver._

_Terry lays into Ians ribs first. The sheer force from each hit knocks the wind out of him. The sharp edges from the brass knuckles break his skin after the second hit, blood dripping down his side. Ian is thankful that he hasn’t heard any cracks, pleased to know that Terry hasn’t broken his ribs. Yet. He is slumped in the chair, avoiding any movement. If he stays still, the pain dulls to a small throb. Unfortunately, Terry has other things in mind. With his left fist, he grasps Ians hair and ranks it so his head is pulled up, forcing him to look Terry in the eyes._

_“It’s because of you, Mickey turned into a faggot.”_

_If Ian thought the first punch to his jaw hurt, adding brass knuckles feels like a brick to the face._

_“It’s because of you, he has disrespected the Milkovich name.”_

_Ian feels the hit to his cheekbone._

_“You turned him into some aids monkey, ass puppet.”_

_Terry pulls back and punches him. Again and again and again._

_Ian's left eye has begun to swell. He knows his eyes are open but he can’t seem to see out of them. He notices Terry has let go of his hair. He turns to the side and spits the blood that has pooled in his mouth onto the floor._

_“It’s over Terry.” Ian gives himself a moment to catch his breath._

_“Mickey has always been gay. People are gay. It doesn’t change who they are just because of who they love.”_

_After all the hits he took to the face, Ian is surprised with how clearly the words come out, expecting them to be slurred or muffled._

_“That’s bullshit. You always have control over who you fuck.”_

_“Like how you controlled Svetlana to rape Mickey?”_

_Terry stands there panting. Trying to catch his breath after laying into Ian like a punching bag at the gym._

_“Pfft, rape? Like he didn’t want it.”_

_“YOU HELD A GUN TO HIS HEAD!”_

_Terry turns his back to Ian, removing the brass knuckles from his hand and cleaning the blood off with a rag._

_“HE DIDN’T ENJOY IT! HE DIDN’T EVEN WANT IT! IT MADE HIM SICK! IT MADE HIM HATE HIMSELF!”_

_The rage in Ian masked any pain he felt from Terry's abuse. For years he wanted to tell Terry what a worthless piece of shit he is. How fucked in the head he must be to do that to his son._

_“And so he should! He should hate who he is. He’s a fucking cock loving queer. He just hadn’t found the right woman yet. I got Svetlana to ride him hard and he realised what he was missing out on.”_

_“YOU WERE GOING TO FUCKING KILL HIM! He wasn’t suddenly converted. He was playing along. Trying to make sure he wasn’t shot, that I wasn’t shot. You sick fuck!”_

_Terry turns back around. The look in his eyes was pure evil. He produces a hunting knife from his back pocket. He slowly turns it as if examining the item to make sure it was sharp and up to his standards for what he had planned. Walking towards him, Terry unzipped Ian's pants. Fear seeped into Ian's body. He began to pull at his restraints, the rope only cutting into his skin and causing more bloodshed. He was pulling so hard that the feet of the chair were lifting from the ground. Terry grasped around the waistband of his jeans and pulled them off in one swift motion. Generally, a move like that would impress Ian, but this was primal. This was the predator coming after the pray._

_“Let’s see if we can’t paint your body to match the colour of your hair.”_

_The knife is aimed at his groin. Scared to move, he watches as Terry slowly moves the knife across his crotch to his thigh. He pushes the blade into his skin. Not wanting to give Terry the satisfaction of his screams, he holds his breath, stifling the sounds that are threatening to come out as the knife is slowly dragged through his flesh, creating a 5-inch gash. Ian doesn’t even have time to process the pain before Terry does it again. Each cut feeling slower than the last. He could feel his skin ripping apart. The knife so sharp it cut through him like he was made of butter. Around the fourth cut, he was thankful that he blacked out._

_Ian slowly stirs awake. His skin hot where the cuts have ripped him open. A cold sweat covering the rest of his body. The pain hits him like a bad hangover, just a punch of agony rather than easing him into it. He wills his body to pass out again so he can't feel the pain. He hears Terry's voice and realises he is talking to someone._

_“I’d be more worried about the way your precious Twink looks once I’m done with him.”_

_Mickey. He must be talking to Mickey._

_“Meet me at the warehouse you did your first drug deal in. I’m guessing I don't need to remind ya to come alone. Then again, I’m not sure if the aids have fried your fucking brain cells. At least what is left of em”_

_No._

_Mickey._

_Don’t come._

_Stay away._

_I want you safe._

_I NEED you safe._

_A sudden rush of adrenaline awakens Ian. He knows Mickey will come for him because if the roles were reversed, and it was Mickey strapped to this chair, then Ian would do anything in his power to get to him. During all of this, Ian hasn’t felt scared of what Terry could do to him. The thought of what Terry could do when Mickey arrives is what terrifies him. He tries to wriggle out of his restraints, the noise alerting Terry that Ian’s awake._

_“Guess you heard that huh. Doesn’t look like we’ll have much time left together before this party gets another guest. Why don’t you say we turn things up a notch, hmm?”_

_A baseball bat appears in Terry's hand. It must have been in another room because it wasn’t here before. Probably the same one he used to knock Ian out cold. He should have known better than to be looking on his phone while walking towards the L. He thought that if he took the short cut, he’d get to the train in time and not have to sit at the station for another twenty minutes before the next one arrived. He thought he’d be fine in the daylight. He thought not hearing from Terry in a week meant he had backed off, that’d he’d be fine. He thought wrong._

_“Let’s see if you take it like a man, or take it like a bitch.”_

_Ian loses track of how many punches to the face he takes before Terry hits hard enough to send the chair toppling backwards, his back now on the cold hard floor. Slipping in and out of consciousness, his brain registers that the ropes around his wrists are being cut off and he’s being flipped onto his stomach. Before he can find the strength to fight back, he hears the sound of the chair being kicked away and his wrists are once again being bound together behind his back. In one swift motion his boxers are pulled off his body, Mickey's boxes. He begins to panic. The pain radiating through his body has left him without the strength he needs to fight back._

_“Doubt Mickey will want you once I ruin you.”_

_The scream barely makes it out of Ian's mouth. His throat dry from the blood and lack of water. The pain comes next. The force makes him want to vomit. The burn is ripping him apart. Liquid dripping down his thighs. He knew it must be blood from the way it’s stinging._

_“Don’t act like you don’t like it.”_

_The baseball bat gets twisted around and Ian passes out._

“You knitting me a sweater up there? What’s takin’ so long?”

The sound of Mickey's voice echoing upstairs pulls Ian out of his thoughts.

“Comin’.”

He rushes down, throws Mickey's coat at him, and heads for the back door.

“Hey, you good?”

Ian knows Mickey can see on his face that he once again got lost in his own thoughts, in his memories. But Mickey simply asks, he doesn’t push it.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s go.”

Leaving the house, they descend the stairs and start walking.

“I heard of this new place, just on the edge of the Southside, thought we could check it out.”

Once again Ian is suspicious. Why does Mickey want to go to a bar where he knows no one and therefore won’t be able to tell any of the patrons to fuck off without being kicked out. At least at the Alibi, they know that’s just Mickey’s personality. Ian goes along with it, a beer is a beer, doesn’t matter where they go.

It felt like they had been walking for a good twenty minutes. Their shoulders bumping together as they fell into a comfortable silence.

“Here we are.”

Ian stops and looks up.

“Mickey, this is a set of apartments.”

“Yeah, the top floor got converted into a bar.”

“Bullshit. Who the fuck told you about this place?”

“Alex at work.”

“Alex told you?”

“Yes. Now, will you get your ass inside and head towards the third floor. I’m thirsty man.”

Ian opens the single door to the apartment building, surprised to see the inside is clean. No holes or peeling paint. No smell of urine or anyone sleeping on the floor. Even the elevator is in service. Ian clicks the up bottom and the doors open instantly. Mickey walks in, Ian following behind. Mickey leans against the railing, watching Ian press the number three. It lights up, the door closes and up they go. Mickey is back on his phone, randomly scrolling like this isn’t the weirdest thing they have ever done for a beer, but whatever.

The doors open. Mickey walks out and Ian stands there confused. It’s just a bunch of apartment doors. Four to be exact. The elevator doors are starting to close on him so he shoots his arm out to stop them. Mickey is heading towards the door marked with the number four. His comfortability shows that he has done it many times before. Ian follows behind him. He reaches the door, noticing that Mickey has a key and has just unlocked it.

“After you Firecrotch.”

Ian pushes the door open and takes a step inside. It's just an apartment. A really nice, well-kept apartment. The first thing he notices is a bay window overlooking the little garden they passed while walking here. At the time, it reminded him of the empty block those lesbians wanted to convert into a communal garden when he was high on lithium. Looking down at it from the window, he can see why they wanted to put something like that together. It was this oasis of beauty in a city full of ugly. Ian couldn’t help but feel at peace the minute he looked down at it.

“Not bad huh?. Figured we get the perks of a garden view without the responsibility of having to maintain it.”

Ian's ears perk up. He turns to Mickey but he is already walking off.

“Functioning kitchen. Even came with a working fridge.” He opens the door and pulls out two cold beers.

“Two bedrooms because I figured we needed one for when Mandy or Liam come to visit. One bathroom, but it has an entry from both bedrooms so I guess it will feel like an ensuite. Heating and cooling, though I heard they don’t work so I’ll have a look at it. It’s a twenty minute walk to your families place and a ten minute walk to the L. Oh, and obviously, this is the lounge room.”

Mickey passes the beer to Ian, casually taking a sip from his own. Mickey smiles at the way Ian opens his mouth and then closes it again, like a fish out of water, speechless and unsure what to say first.

“How did you?”

“Mandy made some connections in the joint. I swear that girl can bend anyone to her will. Long story short, the owner owes Mandy, so we get this place for half the asking price. Rent is due on the first of each month, contracts are sitting over on the kitchen bench over there, waiting for our signatures.”

“Holy fuck.” The words are barely a whisper.

“Is that a yes?”

Ian walks away from Mickey and heads into the bedroom. He can see a Queen size bed already in the middle of the room. On the bedside table sits a picture frame of him and Mickey on their wedding day, the one Veronica took. The same one Mickey has as his phone background. It hits him that for the last week when Mickey has called saying he's picked up some extra hours at work, that he was really just getting this place ready for them. Making it their own before he showed it to Ian.

Mickey has been waiting to bring Ian here until it was set up. He knew Ian would say yes the minute he saw the apartment because it was everything they were looking for. But he wanted it to already feel like it was there's, that it was a home and not just an empty space. He knew it ticked all the boxes for Ian. It had everything he has dreamed of them having, but knowing they could never afford it.

Still looking at the bed, Ian is brought back to reality as he feels Mickey press up against his back. Ian turns, wrapping his arms around his waist.

“It’s perfect. Just like you.”

“I don’t know about that man.”

“Shut up. Just like our wedding song Mick, you’re perfect. You’re perfect for me.”

Ian brings his hand to the back of Mickey's neck, fingers running through his hair as he gently brings his husband towards him. Mickey runs his tongue against his bottom lip, knowing how it drives Ian wild. Their lips clash together. It’s slow. Tender. Exploring one another as if it was the first time. Ian begins to walk backwards, heading towards the bed. He doesn’t want to pull away from Mickey, but they both need to safely put their drinks down. Grabbing the beer from Mickey's hand, Ian places them on the bedside table, beside their wedding photo. Looking back at Mickey, Ian watches as he rubs his thumb across his bottom lip, his eyes shining with desire.

Ian pulls his shirt over his head, dropping it to the floor in _their_ bedroom. He reaches out and takes Mickey's hand, pulling him towards him. Mickey's hands find their way to Ian's waist, gently rubbing against smooth skin as they move to Ians lower back, dipping down to cup Ian's ass.

“Mick?”

“Mmm?”

“I want you to top.” Mickey freezes. Noticing Mickey's hesitation, Ian waits for him to say something.

It’s not like he and Ian haven’t switched things up before, especially after Ian told him about his ex, the one he used to bottom for. When he heard how Ian didn’t enjoy it, going along with it to keep the peace, two thoughts went through Mickey's head. One, where did this guy live so he could give him a beat down for using Ian like a sex doll, and two, he wanted to show Ian that done right, with the person you love, it can be an incredible experience that anyone can enjoy. So hearing Ian ask Mickey to top wasn’t new. What made Mickey hesitate, was how soon he was asking after everything that had happened.

Moving his hands slowly up Ian's body, running them from his ass, along his ribs, over his heart and chest till they land on either side of his face. Mickey walks Ian backwards till his legs hit against their bed, gently pushing him down so he's sitting against the edge. He straddles Ian’s lap, still holding onto his face, and looks into his eyes.

“Why tonight?” Mickey asks, softly stroking his cheek with his thumb.

“To say thank you. You found this dream apartment that we get to share as a married couple and I want to show you my appreciation.”

“Ian, you could pound me against the kitchen table to show me your appreciation. Why do you want to change things up now? Tonight?” Ian looks down, his hands holding Mickey's hips, needing the close contact.

Mickey knew why Ian asked. He understood where his head was at, but he needed Ian to tell him himself. He needed Ian to be sure, to be comfortable with his decision. Mickey didn’t want to do anything Ian would regret, he didn’t want to hurt him more than he already had been.

“Because you're mine and I’m yours. Every part of me belongs to you, always has.”

Mickey waits.

“So, I need _all_ of me to belong to you again.”

The words sink in between them. What Ian is asking of Mickey, why he is asking, he understands. Terry took something from Ian and he wants Mickey to give it back to him. Ian can feel the way Mickey caresses his cheek, small circular motions soothing his thoughts and calming his body. Bringing his eyes to Mickey, all he sees is love and devotion looking back at him. Nothing else needs to be said. Mickey leans in, pressing his lips to Ians. Ian draws in a breath as though the kiss has opened his lungs. They deepen the kiss while Mickey lays his weight on Ian, signaling for him to lay back onto the bed.

Moving from Ian's mouth, he leaves a trail of kisses along his jaw until he reaches the spot on Ian's neck that he knows drives Ian wild. The second Mickey’s lips touch the crevice between his husband's neck and collar bone, Ian bucks up from the electricity that courses through his body.

“Fuck” It’s barely audible, but Mickey can make it out.

Mickey smiles. Adding teeth to the kisses, marking his body, claiming Ian as his. His hands roam the rest of Ian's body, not once allowing a single part of them to be separated. The soft moans leaving Ian's mouth is music to Mickey's ears. He wants him relaxed. He wants him to enjoy this. Kissing down his chest, Mickey stops at Ian's nipples, twirling the right one with his tongue, his hand tweaking the left, both of them hardening from the sensation.

“Mickey, please.”

“Relax. I got you.”

He continues leaving his mark on Ian’s body as he gently bits down his torso, through the small trail of hair leading to his groin and stopping at the waistband of Ian’s jeans. He sits up, looking Ian in the eyes as he removes his pants. Aware that he has way more clothes on than he should, Mickey starts to undress.

“Get the lube. Top draw.”

“So you were planning to bring me here for a celebratory fuck.”

“I’ll let you believe whatever you want to believe Gallagher.”

With lube at the ready, Ian lays on his back. He looks up at his husband who is now completely naked. Doesn’t matter how many times Ian sees Mickey’s body, it still has the power to take his breath away. His dark hair stands out in contrast to his milky white skin. His crystal blues eyes, looking at him so tenderly he could melt. His firm chest where Ian’s name is permanently inked into his skin, announcing to the world that Mickey belongs to Ian Gallagher, always has, always will.

Ian reaches for his underwear, wanting to also be naked. Mickey slaps at his hands, crawling back up Ian's body so his face is level with Ian's crotch. His nose nudges at Ian's groin, he can tell Ian is just as hard as he is. Not wanting to waste any more time, he bites onto the waistband of Ian's boxes and pulls them down with his teeth. Ian lets out a sigh of relief as his dick springs free, no longer confined in his underwear.

Mickey runs his hands up either side of Ian's thighs, gently massaging them. The cuts all healed, leaving Ian behind slivers of scares, barely noticeable unless he really tried to look for them. He grabs the lube beside Ian and squirts it onto this fingers.

“I’ll go slow okay.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Rubbing his finger against Ian's entrance, he massages the area first, getting Ian familiar with the sensation before pushing the first finger inside. Ian withers at the feeling. The anticipation. Waiting for Mickey to enter him. On the verge of begging him to enter, he suddenly feels Mickey push inside.

“Jesus Christ.”

“Just breathe.”

Mickey could cum purely from watching Ian tighten around his finger. He is his kryptonite. His weakness. His guilty pleasure. Seeing Ian fall apart under Mickey's touch is enough to send him over the edge. While his finger fucks Ian, pushing in and out, circling his hole, he slowly adds a second. Ian's mouth opens but nothing comes out. Mickey stops moving his fingers.

“You okay?

Ian nods his head.

“Talk to me Ian, I need to hear you say it.”

“I’m good Mickey. Keep going’, feels good.”

Mickey separates his fingers, scissoring Ian open. He can feel him loosening, but Mickey could do this for hours and Ian would still be tight. He curls his fingers, hitting the spot perfectly.

“Oh fuck! Mickey!”

Mickey stimulates Ian’s prostate. Knowing how sensitive it'd be since Ian barely bottoms, he avoids continuously touching it. Sporadically hitting the spot to make the sensation build.

“I’m ready Mick, please, I’m ready.”

With his free hand, he grabs the lube and spurts some onto himself, rubbing it in while still fingering Ian. Precum leaks from his dick. The sensation from finally being touched and seeing Ian coming undone is making him lose it. Ready to go, he gently removes his fingers. Ian whimpers at the sudden loss, feeling empty without Mickey's fingers inside him. Mickey lines himself up with Ian's hole, hands on either side of his face. He looks down at Ian, wanting to make sure he's ready. His husband's eyes say it all. Pressing at his entrance, Mickey whispers;

“I love you.”

“I trust you.”

Mickey gently pushes in. He stops halfway, waiting for Ian to adjust to the sensation. Ian looks at Mickey and nods his head, letting him know it’s okay to continue. Mickey groans as he pushes the rest of the way in, bottoming out and holding himself still. Ian arches his back. Finally feeling full, feeling whole. The tight pressure around Mickey’s dick is so overwhelming he has to distract his mind to prevent himself from coming right that second.

“Fuck, Ian. I don’t know how long I’m gonna last.”

“Then you better start moving.”

Mickey doesn’t pull out all the way. He builds up a slow rhythm as he thrusts in and out, never leaving Ian completely empty. Mickey moves his right hand to cup behind Ian's head, bringing their lips together. Breathing into each other's mouths as Mickey increases the speed of his thrusts. Foreheads touching, Mickey angels slightly to the right and;

“Oh fuck. Fuck, yes. Right there Mick, don’t stop.”

Ian has never felt like this. _It_ has never felt like this. He has bottomed with Mickey before, each time feeling a connection he never had with Trevor. But this time it’s different. It _feels_ different. _He_ feels different. He feels love and trust and safety in the way Mickey holds him, looks at him. His back arches from pleasure each time Mickey slowly pulls out and pushes back in, hitting his prostate every, single, time. Their eyes close in ecstasy.

A pool of sweat is forming on their chests between them, neither wanting to pull apart. They both want to be close. They need to be. Any form of separation only making them crave the other more. The friction between Mickey's chest on Ian's dick is enough to bring him to the edge, along with the constant attention Mickey is giving his prostate.

“I’m close.”

“Hold it. I want you to come with me, to come for me. Can you do that?”

Ian nods his head, struggling to form any kind of sentence.

“Fuck I love you.” The words fall from Mickey's lips.

Mickey opens his eyes to look into Ians. This man below him means more to Mickey than life itself. He would do anything for Ian. Be anything. Go anywhere. He once told Ian he was fucked for life. What he didn’t tell him, was that he was fucked, because no one would ever be able to compare to Ian. He truly believed he would never be able to have Ian. Not like this. Not as his husband. Out. Living his life free of his father where he can be happy and in love.

“I love you to Mick. Always have.”

Mickey can’t hold it any longer after that.

“Now. I’m coming. Come for me Ian.”

“Mickey”

The sound of Ian moaning his name, his cum spilling out of him, coating their chests as it sticks them together like glue. It pushes Mickey over the edge, feeling Ian pulsating around him, tightening more than before.

“Fuck. Ian.”

He slows down his thrusts as he comes inside Ian. Filling him up, claiming him as his. Mickey’s head falls to the crook of Ian's neck as the sensation overwhelms him. Ian lays soft kisses behind Mickey's ear. Ian's words are barely a whisper but Mickey can still make out what he says.

“Thank you. That was amazing. I feel complete again. Whole. Like all of me is back with you.”

Mickey holds Ian tighter. He begins to soften but he doesn’t want to pull out just yet. His cum dripping out of Ian onto the bed cover. Using the little energy he has left, Mickey pushes himself up from Ian's chest and slowly pulls out, remembering how empty it can feel to suddenly not have anything inside you.

“Let me get a cloth to clean up. Stay there.”

Mickey crawls off the bed, his legs struggling to hold him up. He had made sure to put towels in their bathroom before bringing Ian over to see the apartment. He figured they’d be needing to shower at some point before going back and collecting the remainder of their items from the Gallagher house.

Walking back with a warm cloth in hand, Ian’s eyes are closed but he isn’t asleep. Wiping the cum off of Ian’s chest, he then moves down and gently wipes at his hole, noticing his cum already seeping out.

“You okay?”

“I said it was amazing didn’t I?”

“I mean, you’re not sore or anything, I didn’t hurt you?”

Ian shakes his head.

“You were quite the gentlemen.” Ian laughs at his own joke, making Mickey laugh at the stupid grin on his husband's face.

“I’m good Mick. I promise.”

He throws the washcloth to the floor, not wanting to get up from the bed again. Mickey lays down, Ian wrapping himself around him like he's a body pillow those pregnant women use. Mickey loves it. Ian lays his head on his chest, right over his Ian Gallagher tattoo. Right over his heart where he belongs. He pulls the throw blanket that Debbie demanded he takes - claiming that having extra light blankets around the house always comes in handy -over the both of them. Mentally thanking her, but not planning on doing so in person.

Mickey wraps his arms around Ian, both of them feeling at peace. This is their next chapter in the book of Ian and Mickey. He thanks his stars every day that they found each other. That they came back to each other time and time again, never ready to fully let the other go. He can sense Ian is on the verge of falling asleep, so why he decides now is the time to say this, he doesn’t know. But he figures he better say it before he changes his mind.

“I’m ready.”

“Already? I may need a few more minutes before I can go again, Mick.”

“No, I mean, I’m ready. To start a family. With you.”

Ian doesn’t move, but he tilts his head up so he can see Mickey’s face. Mickey looks down at those beautiful green eyes that he could get lost in and waits.

“Why now?”

The irony of Ian's question isn’t lost on him, but he doesn’t comment on it.

“Honestly? Terry being dead is a big part of it. I was always convinced if I had kids, I’d fuck them up just like Terry did with me and my siblings.”

Ian goes to protest but Mickey stops him. He needs to say this without being interrupted.

“I know, I’d never hurt our kids Ian. I’d never make them feel worthless or tell them it’s wrong to love whoever they love. But deep down I still have some of Terry in me. So yeah, I was scared. But then Mandy reminded me that it wasn’t so much that I was scared of being like Terry but scared of just being a dad. I have no idea where to begin. I don't have a role model father who I can aspire to be like.”

“Mick, I see the way you are with Franny, you may be her Uncle but you treat her like she is your daughter. You talk to her with kindness in your voice and actually listen to her stories. When she is sick you hold her till she feels better and really, that’s all a father is. Being there for their child through it all and making sure they are safe, fed, loved, and cared for.”

Mickey nods, acknowledging that he heard what Ian said.

“There is something else.”

The tone in Mickey’s voice causes Ian to sit up. He keeps his body pressed against Mickey’s, knowing that his husband still needs the comfort of his touch. He’s leaning on his elbow so he can look at him directly.

“When Svet showed up and told us about Yev, I was so fucking angry that I had been forced to live that lie for so long. To be played and manipulated into a life I didn’t want. But then that anger turned into relief. Relief that, if I was off living a life with you and the kids I _did_ want, then I wouldn’t have a son out there that I couldn’t even look at or stand to even have around because of the constant reminder of that day. Fuck that sounds terrible.”

“No, it doesn’t Mickey. Please don’t get angry at me for using this word because I know you hate it but, you are a victim. You are. And because of that, through no fault of his own, Yevgeny would always be a reminder to you of what happened that day. How you felt. What you went through. What it did to you and me. It’s not something you can just brush to the side.”

Mickey needs to sit up. Rubbing his palms against his eyes, he doesn’t want to cry. This wasn’t meant to be a conversation of sadness but a moment of joy, of excitement.

“I never told you this, but when Yev was just a baby, back when I was manic, I had this vision. It was you and me, living in your house but it was all clean and renovated. You were standing in the lounge room holding a baby boy and I just knew, that kid was ours. It wasn’t Yev, he was us. Impossible, I know, but like I said I was manic. Anyway, my point is, Svetlana forced us both to help, to play happy family. Every time she gave you Yevgeny, I could see how you were trying to move past it. You were looking at him, trying to find some connection, some way to deal with what happened so you could learn to one day love him as your own. It’s why I always took him, offered to help more.”

Ian takes Mickey's hands in his own, giving them a light squeeze.

“Finding out you were marrying the woman who raped you, who was pregnant with your child, it broke me. I was so selfish at the time, because if that’s how it made me feel, then you must have been drowning. I tried to get you to stop, to just walk away, but I knew you couldn’t. So this was how I tried to make it up to you. I took care of Yevgeny so you didn’t have t. It’s all I could think of doing to help.”

“How did I get so lucky?”

“I guess me going to get that gun back was the best thing that happened for us.”

Seeing a smile appear on Mickeys face is enough for Ian to know his job was done. Mickey deserves to smile every day of his life and Ian intended on being the one to put it there. Leaning forward, foreheads resting against one another, Ian squeezes Mickeys hand again for reassurance.

“I can’t wait to start a family with you Mickey Gallagher.”

“Me too.”

They kiss. It’s tender and soft to commemorate this decision they have made together.

“We’re going to need a bigger apartment.”

“Jesus Christ, we just moved in. I’m sure one spare bedroom will be enough. Let’s start off with one kid and see how it goes.”

“But where will my siblings stay when they visit?”

“We’ll get a fold-out couch. I’m sure they’ve slept on worse.”

Mickey's heart skips a beat when Ian smiles back at him. This is it. This is that moment that everyone talks about in life and those romcoms his sister makes him sit through. His life has been one big fight. A fight for survival. For power and acceptance. A fight for love. Sometimes his heart aches at how his life turned out, in a good way, because Mickey is not a lucky guy, far from it. However, when it comes to Ian, he is the luckiest person on the entire planet because the person he loves decided to love him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading my first multi-chapter fic. I appreciate all your comments and support along the way. I hope you have enjoyed this story and the closure I gave Mickey and Ian. 
> 
> A HUGE shout out to Emily. This story would be a mess with my grammar and phrasing without your help.
> 
> GOOD NEWS! I have decided to turn this into a series. I have already mapped out the next chapter for Ian and Mickey's journey together. Keep an eye out. I will be taking a little break because this was so intense, but I promise to have something for you soon enough.
> 
> If you would like to follow me on my socials:
> 
> My Instagram video editing account is @gallavich.geek (Yes I make videos too, it's why I need to balance edit and writing)  
> My Twitter is @halewolf24


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